


Nothing's Fair In Love And War

by magentania



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Rivalry, Sexual Content, Witchcraft, Witches, a very little bit of suicide attempt, mostly just Harry hating Zayn tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magentania/pseuds/magentania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He looked up subconsciously, and almost fell on his knees when he realised the thing he grabbed was a bunch of vines growing out of the canvas and sprawling through the entire wall outside the frame. When Harry loosed his hand, he could still smell the fragrance of fresh grass between his fingers. He turned around to look at Zayn out of startle. And Zayn was only picking a flower between the vines leisurely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It was very nice to meet you too, Harry.” He handed the flower to Harry with a gratified smirk.</em>
</p><p>Or, rival witches au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustR](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustR/gifts).



> Hello, first of all thank you so much for reading! This is for the prompt "Witch neighbours with magical houses AU". I think I make the story more complicated and serious than it was supposed to be. And I'm sorry that I changed the plot a bit I hope that's ok!!! I tried to keep as much fluff and humour as I could. I really hope you'd like it! And PLEASE don't punch me when it comes to the ending. *flees*
> 
> I actually did quite a lot researches of witches for this fic. It was a very interesting experience, thank you for giving me this chance! Although the librarian of my college probably thought I was a satanist. I also apologise in advance if there's any mistake for the cultural reference I used. If there's something wrong please inform me and I will fix it asap!
> 
> Also shout out to my lovely beta, [Vildan](http://blesszeeknd.tumblr.com/) and [Nyssa](http://onetedswift.tumblr.com/), I'm such a lazy writer I'm sorry for handing in at the last minute. *mmm whatcha say*
> 
> Title from the Three Days Grace's song with the same name.

Real witches wear heels.

That’s what his grandmother had been telling him before Harry could even properly walked in his onesie. ‘Heel’ was one of the very first words added to Harry’s vocabulary for the same reason. And that was also what made Harry venerate his granny Miranda during his childhood. Miranda always wore heels. She hated the Bohemia carpet in their living room and she used to threatened Anne that if she saw that carpet with her own eyes again, she would set it on fire herself. Every time she was about to visit, Harry and Gemma would have to roll up the carpet and hide it in the basement behind Anne’s old wardrobe. So Miranda could enjoy the echo in the hallway when she stepped on the granitic floor in her eight inches heels, the sound that constantly sprawled in little Harry’s nightmare.

“Nothing shows the power of a witch better than a pair of high heels,” Miranda liked to maunder in her couch whilst doing Gemma’s hair. She always got a little overexcited giving her speech that she didn’t even notice Gemma’s whimper when she pulled her ponytail harshly. “Yes, _you_ too, young man.” She aimed at Harry with the comb, wielding it like a magic wand. Harry twisted his neck slowly, in case his grandmother accidentally shot a spell right in his forehead. “Heels were forbidden during the Elizabethan era. A woman would be accused for using witchcraft if she wore heels. You see that? People fear you because of the shoes you put on!”

Harry believed this theory was just based on his grandmother’s obsession with high heels. The most notorious one was a pair of black leather stiletto boots (she hated wedges) that she attended Harry’s first birthday with. Harry was wailing like a dying dolphin when Miranda stole him from Anne’s arms to tickle his chubby cheeks. That was such an offensive reaction for Miranda’s high self-esteem to tolerate. Anne almost fainted when she stepped out of the kitchen and saw her little baby being turned into a frog, croaking and jumping around Gemma who laughed so hard and fell off her chair.

Gemma had always been the favourite child since then. It was not something hard to understand. In general, witches show their talent around the age of seven, but Gemma had already made her pillow flow through the entire lounge and hit right into Harry’s face when she was five. She was a handful and always driving Anne crazy with her naughty tricks, which, instead, made her a genius to her grandmother.

“I knew you’re named Gemma for a reason, my dear.” Miranda always patted Gemma’s shoulders proudly, in a relatively louder volume. “You’re a treasure, the pride of our family. Y’know who our ancestor was? Queen Morgana, the greatest enchantress of centuries. Don’t let those ridiculous folktales make you believe that she betrayed King Arthur. See again? When you’re so powerful that people even need to twist the history to make ya despicable. Weak ass.”

On the other hand, Harry had never received much appreciation as his sister. In the beginning Miranda did have a lot of expectation on him though – Harry was born on Imbolc, an ancient Celtic feast associated with the goddess Brigid to mark the beginning of spring. The Druidic sorcerers worshipped Brigid, the patroness of poetry, medicine, arts, and crafts. Miranda took Harry’s birth as a gift from the goddess. She was quite upset when Anne decided to name him Harry instead of Brian. Even so, she believed that the goddess of wisdom must have blessed her grandson. However, it was another disappointment.

Unlike his elder sister, Harry couldn’t even keep a pencil in the air more than half a minute at the age of ten. The only time he made the pencil stay in the air for forty-five seconds, the pencil ended up burning itself and the sudden combustion almost burned the table down.

“ _Boys_ don’t need to be good at witchcraft,” said Anne, trying to save the awkward situation, which absolutely outraged her mother.

“Oh listen to the bullshit came from your mouth, Anne! Are you telling me he’s supposed be a terrible witch ‘cause – what – he’s a boy? Stop giving him excuses!” Miranda held her hands on the hips, stepping her heels forward at Harry, “Y’know what they did in my grandma’s generation? Witches weren’t allowed to have sons, ‘cause boys are irresponsible and unreliable. They’d kill the baby with their own hands if it weren’t a girl. Those were days.” She touched the pearl necklace on her bosom, slowly shaking her head with a nostalgic sigh, “You shall be grateful for all the knowledge you’ve been shared with. Don’t ya dare to take your honour for granted!”

And real witches wear black.

Miranda was a classic witch, living her modern life with 15th century stereotype. Harry had never fully comprehended his grandma’s aesthetic for witches. She’s not conservative, but she believed that there must be certain rules to follow for one to be an outstanding witch – even though those conditions didn’t make sense. That’s why the Styles siblings always had to dress like they’re ready for a funeral whenever their dearest grandmother came over.

“Black is the strongest colour,” chanted Miranda. The smoke of tobacco kept Harry’s eyes watering. “Black is the symbol of wisdom and dignity. Think to yourselves, kids, are people gonna respect you if you wear a floral printed shirt?” She pointed her churchwarden at Gemma, who’s shaking her head with a stiff smile. “S’right, sweetie. Your appearance makes the best representation. Even if you ain’t powerful as you seem.” She added with a glimpse at Harry.

Harry always had a hard time dealing with his grandma, and he bet his mother felt the same way. Most of time Anne acted no difference with a normal single mother, doing groceries and taking good care of her two children. She was also an excellent witch, no less than Miranda. But unlike her infamous mother, who still liked to pick on the banshees and vampires nearby during her pregnancy, Anne left her clan and moved out from the witch village to settle down in a common neighbourhood. Miranda couldn’t understand nor accept her decision. Every time when granny Miranda came checking on their lives, Harry could see the frustration on his mother’s face.

There was only one chance for them to breathe, and that was when Caroline showed up.

Caroline was a mellow woman; graceful, elegant, and wise. She didn’t need to follow any of Miranda’s “witch rules” to make herself seem powerful. Caroline and Miranda were close friends, although she looked more like Miranda’s student when they stood next to each other. Harry was quite certain that Caroline was much older than how she was presented – maybe even older than his grandmother, because for the past twenty years she had always looked the same. Gemma once told him that Caroline was allegedly over two hundred years old. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.

And Harry loved Caroline. She was like a big sister for Anne and a lovely aunt for Harry and Gemma as well. Caroline was one of the greatest witches in not only England but also all over the world. She was famous for curing the victims in a werewolves attack in Flixton. None of the citizens was infected thanks to her treatment. Caroline had always been Harry’s idol ever since he learnt about her legacy. And she never looked down on Harry as his own grandmother did.

“What do you think that makes a great witch, Harry?”

“Dunno,” little Harry twisted his head, trying to be impressive by turning his pot plan into purple, “Granny said wearing heels and black would help.”

Caroline laughed blissfully, but she didn’t reply.

Harry never showed his talent in witchcraft until the age of twelve. That wouldn’t have happened without Caroline. It was a trifle, not even did Harry himself notice. But when little Harry pointed at a photo on the wall of her house, Caroline’s eyes were full of surprise. “I saw you wearing this dress in my dream.”

“What did you say, honey?” Caroline blinked quickly.

“Sorry.” Harry apologised immediately, thinking about how embarrassing that sounded, “I had a dream where you and mommy took Gemma and me to a picnic. You were wearing this red dress. Gemma asked you why you wore a gown to the picnic –”

“This picture was taken fifteen years ago. I think I lost it somewhere when I moved to this house.” Caroline mumbled with a mysterious grin, “It was one of my favourite outfit. I love the little bowtie in the back.” She placed her palm on Harry’s head. Harry frowned at her words.

“There was no bowtie in the back.”

Caroline grinned even wider.

Miranda’s mood was complicated when she learnt about her grandson’s ability of prophecy. This kind of gifted talent couldn’t be acquired by training. Not even witches like Miranda and Caroline were able to achieve. The news was spread like wildfire. All these relatives and friends that Harry had never heard before were all gathering in the small salon of his house, asking him to predict who was going to have babies first or who was going to make a fortune in the future. Anne couldn’t force them to leave (“That’s rude and disrespectful, girl!” said Miranda.) and Gemma was upset that Harry stole all the attention on her for the first time, especially when the ability of prophecy was more common to be found in a girl.

Harry didn’t feel particularly proud of his new talent. He still didn’t know how to make a broom fly, and his prediction only worked once in a while. Moreover, he couldn’t even comprehend the meaning behind all the signs he sensed. He didn’t know what it represented if two out of five candles were blown off by the wind, or what’s gonna happen when the same black cat was roaming in front of his neighbour’s porch for the whole week. He was the only one who received these anonymous messages but he couldn’t understand a word. And he’d rather never received them again.

Therefore the rest of time he was still a useless witch who’s not different from a normal human being. And Miranda still preferred bragging about Gemma than him. Harry couldn’t complain. He had no solid reason for himself to be bitter. Maybe his grandma was right. He should just wear heels and black.

And the last rule, real witches don’t fall in love.

Anne’s two kids had never seen their father. Sometimes Harry even wondered if they did share the same father. In Harry’s early memory, it was always Anne taking care of the entire family. Miranda was there, but she’s only helpful when she was not around. Anne never talked about her husband. It took Harry a long time to realise there was supposed to be another member at home. Miranda wouldn’t mention this missing piece of the family either. Instead, she would only repeat her golden rules over and over again. And Harry guessed that explained enough.

“Not like I don’t want y’all to have fun,” Miranda moistened her lips with some wine and continued, “But just _have fun_! Never get too attached, remember! Good things rot when you ask for too many. Don’t let it erode your brain and soul. It’s not worthy.”

Harry had never been in any serious relationship. But he didn’t consider it was because of his grandma’s admonition. He dated a girl when he was sixteen, who was one of Gemma’s friends. It was a lovely blondie, with sky blue eyes and the laughter that sounded like bird’s squealing. They last for three months – which was longer than Gemma expected. He was trying to light the candles romantically during their date, but he ended up setting her skirt on fire.

And then at his nineteenth Christmas, he fucked a scalper in the men’s room of the station because he forgot to book the ticket home in advance. If it were his sister, she would probably enchant that guy with a simple finger snapping. But Harry wasn’t Gemma and that scalper was really hot. Although on the train to Holmes Chapel he couldn’t help but sobbing at the pain in his butt and how he lost his virginity on this holy day with such a ridiculous reason. But perhaps that’s what his grandma meant. Just have fun.

Gemma didn’t come home as often as Harry did after leaving for college. She studied in France for her fashion designer dream, which upset Miranda a lot since she expected Gemma to be the heir to the clan. But Gemma ran away before her grandma could catch her. However, when Harry was also leaving, she didn’t give any comment.

Anne was mostly silent on their way to the station. The weather was great. The sunlight came down from the windshield of the cab, covering half of her face. Harry couldn’t look at her. He knew that he wouldn’t stop counting the shadows under her cheekbones. There were only two of them. Miranda didn’t bother to offer a goodbye; Gemma couldn’t make it to come back from France. As the fragrance of the coffee shop at the corner sneaked in, Harry almost uttered something but it didn’t come out of his throat. He wasn’t sure what he’s going to say anyway – about his father who never participated his life, about the reasons why his mother rarely used magic again, about how he’s not ready for leaving home. But the only move he made was tiptoeing in his two and half inch boots, knocking his knees like a six year old on the first day of primary school.

Maybe he shouldn’t be a witch.

The idea crawled in from his fingertips to his chest when he inserted the ticket into the turnstile. He turned around to look for his mother, as if he was asking for her permission. But Anne just stood outside of the barrier, waving at her son with the same old smile.

Harry attended his first coven meeting before he graduated from college. It was pretty late for witches his age. This regular gathering of witches didn’t give him a good impression after Gemma was brought to one by their grandma at the age of fourteen. She wasn’t allowed to tell Harry what happened, but Harry could tell that his sister didn’t experience a remarkable night.

However, the one Caroline assigned him to wasn’t as bad as he expected. The meeting located at the garden of an old academy on the border of Cornwall, close to the north coast. The building was previously a seminary for young ladies in 18th century until it was shut down due to World War I. The discarded school building was then occupied by a group of witches from southern and eastern England. Caroline’s family was one of them.

Harry was enlightened. There was no hideous ceremonies or atrocious rituals. Actually, the atmosphere was quite pleasant and delightful. Under the moonlight, the members were sharing their experiences, practicing different crafts and talking about the new trends between younger witches. The conversations were warm and peaceful. Harry had never felt so easy to be with any other group of witches.

Later of the night, Harry was introduced to Taylor, an American witch from Pennsylvania. Taylor became Caroline’s student when they both came visiting the famous Salem village seven years ago. Taylor was descended from one of the Salem witches who escaped from the trial in 17th century. Inheriting from her ancestor, Taylor was especially good at potions and herbology.

“How do you feel, Harry?”

Before the midnight fell, Caroline moved herself next to Harry and rested her hand on his shoulder. Harry shrugged, “Well, Josephine’s invisible spell was pretty cool –”

“You know what I’m talking about.” Caroline narrowed her eyes. Harry gave out a sigh, raising his head to look at her eyes. “I don’t know, Caroline. I still don’t know about anything. I was here sitting in the circle in my tacky black suit and silly heels like an idiot. I just- I just don’t feel like I’m part of this group.”

“You don’t like the coven?”

“I _love_ this coven,” Harry gasped, creasing his brows as he looked for proper words to explain, “I’ve never felt so relaxed talking to other witches, sharing my thoughts and ideas. They are all lovely and kind people. And their intelligence made me fall on my knees. What I’ve learnt for the past twenty years couldn’t compare to what they taught me tonight.”

“Then what is bothering you?”

His fringe fell from his forehead, but he didn’t bother to brush it back. “That is exactly what’s bothering me.” He hissed, “they are all superiors, while I’m – well, have I told you I can finally boil a pot of water by only staring at it?” He laughed bitterly, “That’s my proudest trick.”

Caroline didn’t laugh, “You have the talent of –”

“Predicting the future, I know.” Harry cut her sentence roughly, “Last year I saw Danny – that werewolf boy from Yorkshire – in my dream, wearing a black rose around his neck, sitting in front of a house that I’d never seen. That dream repeated every night until one day his car broke and he couldn’t get home by the evening. It was a full moon night.”

Another girl was calling them back, but Harry ignored and continued. “He was trying to attack a little girl. Her father shot him right in his neck, in front of the house in my dream.” Harry paused, biting his lower lip, “my talent can’t save nobody, Caroline.”

Their names were being called again. The group meditation would be starting soon.

“If you wanna listen to another story, Harry,” Caroline replied calmly, wrapping Harry’s hand in her palms, “Years ago I saved a witch from ending her own life. She’s the heir of a powerful clan – a young, beautiful, clever girl with a bright future. But she almost gave up herself when she lost the only man she loved. Her family set up a trap to make him forget about her by her own sorcery. The curse would follow him till the end of her life.”

The breeze came through her hair, and the night sky sparkled in her eyes. “She told me that her own power frightened and disgusted herself. Nothing in her life mattered anymore, and she’d never love another man again. I told her, time would prove her wrong. Do you believe that? Several years later, she found another man to love again.”

Harry’s brows knitted, “How…? Thought she was devastated.”

“How?” Caroline gave him an expressive smile, “The man she loves is standing right in front of me. Go ask him.”

It felt like thousands of stars above him had fallen to his body, crushing his spine and shaking every piece of bones underneath his skin. The heat ran through his veins, burning every single word on the tip of his tongue, “Is she –” his throat was dry as desert, “is she… is she my… my mo –”

“We should go back there.” Caroline turned around to look at the group behind them. Her voice was soothing and sedate. “Have I mentioned that Taylor is initiating a new coven? She is mature enough to be a responsible priestess, but she can’t start if there’s no great members to support her, don’t you agree?” She winked at Harry.

Harry was speechless.

“I asked you this question when you were a little boy, but you didn’t give me an answer.” said Caroline as they returned to the circle, “what makes a great witch?”

Harry shook his head, “Wear heels. Wear black. Don’t fall in love.”

“That’s your grandma’s aphorism.” Caroline grinned at him, “I’m not judging whether it’s right or wrong – but that was her belief, not yours. If you wanna follow rules, at least make your own constitution. A real witch creates, not follows – oh wait, that’s _my_ aphorism.”

Harry smiled.

Maybe he should be a witch.


	2. Chapter One

Blood.

That was the first thing Harry noticed in the darkness. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where the light flickering on the stone floor came from. The air was cold and humid, frosting all his joints and knuckles as he tiptoed to make an attempting step. His breath stopped as his bare feet touched the liquid rambling to his direction.

The familiar paintings on the wall weren’t hard for Harry to tell where he was. He looked up slowly. The hall of the sorority house had never been this eerie, and the silence was so drowsy that he couldn’t even hear the wind knocking on the window. All he could assure was that the tepid, half-stiffen blood was only inches away from him.

He should wake up the girls upstairs. There were thirteen of them. He shouldn’t feel frightened – if he's able to make his body follow the order. His arms and legs suddenly lost all their functions. Even when he tried to yell out loud, he couldn’t utter a single sound.

And then he saw it, the vague figure on the opposite side of the hall. His eyes following the blood and the dim light and stopped by the object at the end of the trace. It was a dead body, lying with its face down. The flood of the blood streamed down from the ten swords embedded in its back.

Harry was wakened by his own scream.

 

There were two golden eyes welcoming him in the dark. Harry caught his breath rapidly, blinking at the empty ceiling. He sat up in bed and buried his face into his palms. The two golden eyes were still locking on him.

“Sorry, Molly.” Harry apologised, reaching his arm to the small cat cringing beside his bed. But she didn’t answer to his invitation, only replying with a soft meowing and wriggling her tail at him. Harry lowered his hand with a sigh, climbing down his bed for some cool water. He took a quick glimpse at the antique cuckoo clock on the wall. It hadn’t even been 3 am yet.

It had been over three years since he took his oath and dedicated his blood to the coven leaded by Taylor. He then moved to this old sorority house purchased by Taylor’s family in late 1930s with the other twelve girls. Harry was the only male witch in the coven – not all the members agreed it was a good idea. His grandmother wasn’t just telling tales to scare him – witches didn’t trust men, even though he was part of group.

Taylor had always been supportive for his role in the coven. After he moved away from his hometown, he realised it wasn’t as easy as he thought to keep in touch with his family. He sometimes wondered what his mother did everyday after two of her children had left the house. Gemma still stayed in France, Miranda’s track was always elusive, and Caroline had been traveling to Ireland. Taylor was the only one who could accompany by his side.

And that’s also the reason why Harry didn’t want to bother her. Taylor was very nice, and that made Harry guilty feeling uneasy with her kindness. He felt like the youngest and spoiled kid in the family who always brought trouble home. He had to teach little witches basic history of magic – the only subject requiring no charms, and he still somehow turned two girls and one little boy’s hair into orange and couldn’t change them back. Although the kids found it funny and no one was harmed, Taylor still had no choice but assign the other witch to replace him. Harry only kept the job as an assistant.

He was a fucking joke.

There was no more water left in his bottle. Harry bit the edge of his glass, staring at the curtain waving in the breeze. The nightmare still occupied his mind regardless of the iced water sliding down to his stomach. He recognised the symbol as soon as he woke up: _Ten of Swords_ , one of the Minor Arcana cards. Despite his talent in fortune telling, Harry was quite bad at Tarot cards. Even so, it’s not difficult for him to understand the meaning behind this card.

Molly was meowing again. Harry realised he was shivering. He put the glass down, but he couldn’t help rubbing his fist over and over. He hated every prophetic dream he’d ever had, no matter what the content was. It was the same feeling as MI5 intercepted a secret message about assassinating the prime minister but no one knew when and where it was going to happen. And to Harry, it was even worse – he could barely interpret the messages that were put into his head. Sometimes they helped, most of time they didn’t.

He had to make a decision.

 

“Something bad is happening to our coven?”

It was nearly dawn. Taylor crossed her arms at her chest, trying to focus on Harry’s explanation. She was still sleepy after the rapid knocks on her door five minutes ago. However, she’s paying full attention, especially for how reliable her friend’s dreams were.

“Perhaps ‘something bad’ is too mild to convey the situation. You study about Tarot more than I do.” Harry replied, but he was looking at his reflection in the crystal ball on Taylor’s dresser. His face was paler surrounded by the nebulous material in the ball. Taylor kept quiet, loosening her arms and holding her knees with her palms.

“I’m sorry.” Harry whispered, “I didn’t mean to make you panic.”

“Don’t say that, Harry. We all know how significant your prophecy is. What do you think it’s coming? Ten of Swords contains a lot of different meanings.” Taylor closed her eyes to go through her memories, “Pain, defeat, crisis, failure, disaster –”

“Death.” Harry finished for her. Taylor’s countenance fell.

“It’s just a general idea.” Taylor muttered, “Tarot cards don’t have only one consequence. It could also mean a new start and rebirth. We have to put a lot of things into consideration. Like…was the card reversed?”

Harry shook his head, “I knew what I saw, Taylor. It wouldn’t show up like that in my dream if it were revered. The card was upright.”

The conversation was stuck again. Taylor took a deep breath and lifted herself from the chair, starting to stroll up and down in the room. Harry didn’t join her. He’s still glaring at the crystal ball as if he could actually see something between the clouds.

“When is it gonna happen?” Taylor stopped her pace.

“Hard to say. In my dream it was the distance of the entire hall. That probably equals to one month or less.”

Taylor didn’t continue to walk nor respond to Harry. The sunlight had come out from the edge of the sky, melting the darkness like the first day of spring.

“So,” after a long break, Taylor turned back to face him. “Someone in our coven…is going to die in one month?”

“That’s not exactly what it means.” Harry changed his tone immediately, trying to sooth the tense atmosphere. “Look, maybe it’s just nothing but a nightmare, I shall go back to –”

“No, Harry.” Taylor forced a smile at him, “I think that will be me.”

 

Taylor had a close relationship with her family, especially her mother Andrea, who had been the leader of the clan before Taylor was born. The Salem Witches were strongly admired by sorcerers all over the world after the tragedy in 1690s. A pair of twin sisters fled from the jail before the trial, running away from their hometown and settling down at a small town in central Pennsylvania. The Salem lineage was protected till nowadays.

Legacy, that’s the essence of Taylor’s coven.

However, her mother fell down when Taylor was seventeen. Andrea was diagnosed of cancer. A peach-sized tumour was inside her left lump, resulted from the smoke she inhaled in everyday from boiling potions. The chance of being cured was impossibility.

At the very moment, Taylor made a hasty and irrational decision to save her mother’s life. Even with the power she had, Taylor was just a teen witch with poor amount of experience. She was too young and too relentless to care about the price she’s going to pay in the future. There wasn’t another decade for her to run away from the debt.

A life to a life – Magic is always a fair trade.

 

Harry was sitting alone on the porch, without noticing the book in his hands was upside down.

It had been a week since they declared the bad news to the rest of the coven. Nobody was prepared for the distressing announcement, not to mention that they’re going to lose their own leader. The cruel thing was, they didn’t really have time to recover from the grief. The coven would get weaker as Taylor’s life gradually flowing away from her. Before her power could no longer support the whole coven, they needed someone to fill her blank as soon as possible; a never member, or even a new leader.

Caroline contacted Harry the night after she learnt of the situation. To Harry’s surprise, she was as shocked as everyone who was informed. Harry thought she was one of the keepers of the secret, but apparently Taylor never shared the story to anyone until Ten of Swords stabbed right into Harry’s temple in his sleep.

But the urgent issue didn’t allow them to spend the night mumbling their condolences. Harry knew that it’s impossible for him to convince Gemma to be part of the coven, and his students were too young to make their vows. They did not have much time left. The size of the hall could represent an entire month or the next two minutes, and the dead body was still lying stiffly in Harry’s dream. There’s still no way for Harry to reassure.

At the end of the conversation, Caroline gave him the one last suggestion.

“I know someone who’s suitable for this coven.”

“If you’re talking about the Irish witch –”

“I’m not talking about Niall.” Caroline’s steady voice came from the other side of the wire. It was so clear that Harry could already smell her perfume next to him. “Niall is a great boy, but you know him – he wouldn’t like to be restricted by covens. And I’m not talking about anyone you know.”

Harry didn’t interrupt, waiting for Caroline to explain. “It may not be the best timing or best way to state that, but the coven needs new blood,” she made a brief pause, pondering over her words, “The girls – and you, boy – in the coven are all grown adults, yet still not mature enough as witches. You understand why?”

“Um, power?”

“Knowledge, experience, and visions.” Caroline corrected him, “Power might be born in your soul, but it won’t grow up without your wisdom. You can’t be a great witch by swallowing every magic book.”

“So what does that have to do with…”

“What I’m saying is, Harry, your knowledge is restrained by the world you put yourself in.” Harry could hear her fingers knocking frequently on the table, “I’m not just talking about the place you live in, but everything around your life. Culture, custom – they are all too similar in your coven. You need different points of view.”

“You’ve got a candidate?”

“Oh, the best I could find.”

“What’s her name?”

“ _His._ ” Caroline emphasised. Harry could see her rolling her eyes at the telephone. “His name is Zayn. Zayn Malik.”

Harry shrugged, and then realised he was talking on the phone. “I’ve never heard about him.”

“You should sometimes put down your textbooks, or you’d only learn names like Circe or Lilith.” Caroline mocked, “Well, the Malik’s is famous for the contribution they do for magic researching. Their studies touch both western and eastern culture. I’m sure you’d love to share these new stories you learnt to the kids in class.”

“I was fired, Caroline.”

The appointment with Zayn was assigned in a couple days. Apparently Caroline had already discussed with Taylor before her phone call to Harry. The new plan didn't make Harry feel much relieved. Taylor decided to spend the last month of her life dealing with the affairs of the coven and focusing on her mission of passing on the inheritance. That made Harry hate himself because all he could think about was he's going to lose his friend – his only friend in the coven. _Forever_.

Harry doubted if he could get along with the new member. The good thing was he would no longer be the only guy in the coven, but Harry was not ready for the new life coming to him. One month was long enough to make a change but short enough to pass within a blink.

Zayn was supposed to arrive by Sunday evening, but he changed his schedule when they started preparing the greeting meal. He wouldn't show up until Wednesday morning. That annoyed Harry a bit. The school was bringing the kids to the Museum of Witchcraft on the same day, and the whole coven would accompany them. Harry hadn't been allowed to be near the kids for a long while, and he could possibly win their trust once again. But now he had lost his opportunity because he was the least important role to the trip, which meant he would be staying at the sorority house for their incoming member.

So now Harry was crossing his legs, turning the pages absently. He took a glance at his watch. It's 10 in the morning and his VIP should have been here half an hour ago. Caroline had given him Zayn's number, but Harry left his phone in his room and he was too lazy to climb up five floors. The only thing he could do was glare at the statue of Cupid in the garden, trying to make him flap his wings. But the little boy only stared him back with a quirky smile.

Another ten minutes passed, the noise of the horn finally woke him up from dozing off. Harry opened his eyes. A black cab was parking in front of the house. Harry dropped his book, approaching to open the grille gate. Someone was lifting the suitcases off the boot.

“Hello,” said Harry politely, hiding his yawn behind his fist, “you must be...”

Harry was expecting a short guy with black thick frame glasses and jewelled necklace for exorcism. But right now the guy standing in front of him had nothing in common with Harry's definition of a witch: black leather jacket, ripped skinny jeans and ankle boots inlaid with rivets. Under the rolled up sleeves, his forearms were covered by various tattoos in a confusing combination including a lotus, a racing flag and a henna-style flower. The front of his black fringe was dyed silver. He looked more like a rock star on his vacation than an actual witch. And now he's looking back at Harry with the eyes similar to his gold earrings.

“Zayn Malik.” He reached his spared hand to Harry. His fingers were covered with rings and accessories that Harry couldn't name.

“Nice to meet you. I'm –”

“Harley, right? Caroline told me...”

“It's Harry. Harry Styles.” Harry interrupted, trying to sound as patient as he could. Zayn just shrugged, “oh right, I remember you have an interesting surname.” He put his fingers under his chin as he looked around the front yard, not noticing Harry's eye-roll.

“What kept you so long?” Harry asked, “The station isn't too far away from here. Did you get lost?”

Zayn turned at him, confused. “I thought I left you a message. You didn't get it? I went back home again because I forgot to say goodbye to Arnie.”

“Arnie?”

“My lizard.”

“Your – what?”

“A bearded dragon lizard. I can't bring him here because he prefers the weather in Bradford. I had to give him a proper goodbye or he'd be a handful to my sisters if he couldn't find me. That's why I didn't catch my train.”

“Very touching.” Harry mumbled without looking at Zayn, “unfortunately I left my phone in my room. So I just waited for you for nearly an hour. You wanna look around?”

But Zayn didn't answer him nor follow his steps. Instead, he was looking up at the house, with one hand shielding off to the sunlight. “Where's your room?”

“Uh – excuse me?” Harry turned around as Zayn threw the weird question to him abruptly, but the asker didn't plan to make further explanation. “If you're asking where _your_ room is...we all live in the main building. The girls share the third floor and the fourth floor. Ours are on the fifth floor.”

“Which side?”

“Yours is on the left.”

“And, where is it? On your desk? Or your bed?”

“What?”

“Your phone. Where is it?”

“What does –”

“Just answer it.” Zayn replied curtly.

“I...well, on the night stand, I supposed.” Harry recollected the scene in his room this morning. He probably put it there randomly after unplugging his phone from the charger. And then he frowned at Zayn, who was still gazing at the building, “Okay, but what does that have to do with...”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, Zayn raised his hand up and caught something falling from the air. Harry was about to ask, but then Zayn walked forward to hand the object to him. It was nothing else but his phone.

“Telekinesis.” Zayn grinned at Harry's widely opened eyes, “Very useful trick. Too bad in this distance I can only control smaller objects.” He said and then looked at his suitcases with a pitying sigh.

They couldn't be friends. Harry had just decided it.

 

The grand building with six floors contained its own history for over two hundred years. On the outside it was the iconic neoclassical style: simple and elegant outline enframed with tablets and panels. However, it was a different story on the inside. The walls were hanging with replica paintings of Vermeer and Rembrandt, whilst the furniture was decorated in the fancy Victorian style. The staircases in the middle of the building were, on the contrary, designed in the 1920s Art Deco style.

Harry could make the tedious stories about this house much more compelling, but he wasn't in the mood being the tour guide of his new flat mate, despite the impressed expression on Zayn's face.

“The ground floor is the hall, where we greet guests and hold events. The kitchen and the dining room are in the back.” Harry introduced in a flat tone, pointing at the facilities in the room heedlessly. He was surprised to discover how fast he actually could speak. “The first floor has three classrooms for the kids. They have class from 9 to 2 in the afternoon everyday. The second –”

“Where are the kids today?”

“School trip.” Harry replied coldly, “the se –”

“The faculty includes the entire coven, right?” Zayn asked again as he examined the interior of the classrooms. He's beaming at a queue of small brooms leaning on the wall at the end of the room. “Caroline told me the kids like you. What subject do you teach?”

Harry could taste the bitterness from the bottom of his heart. Caroline clearly thought he was joking when he mentioned that he was fired. “History.” Harry gave him a simple answer, continuing with his introduction before Zayn came up with more questions, “the second floor is Taylor's office. Her private room is there too.”

“I'm sorry for what happened to her.” Zayn's voice came from behind. Harry neglected him again. “There's a library on the other side. You probably don't really need it.” He glanced at Zayn through the reflection on the vase at the corner, but Zayn didn't seem to note the sarcasm.

“Our rooms are at the top floor as I mentioned.” Harry took a breath to calm himself down, trying to be as friendly as he could. “Do you need me to carry the cases for you? There's no lift in the house...”

Harry regretted immediately as he turned around. _Of course_ Zayn didn't even need to carry the luggage himself. His two heavy suitcases were floating in the air like two pieces of feathers, following behind Zayn by every step he made. “Don't worry, I can handle them.” He smiled.

 _Oh_. A little voice in Harry's chest said so.

“So,” Zayn started the conversation again as Harry went completely silent. “You said you teach the kids history?”

“Technically.” Harry stared at the painting of a girl pouring milk on the wall as they walked upstairs. He couldn't remember if he fed Molly this morning.

“Why?”

Harry stopped abruptly. He could hear Zayn’s suitcases hit onto the handrail all of sudden. “What did you mean by ‘why’?” His voice was louder than it was supposed to be, but Zayn was too busy examining the carved patterns on the handrail to concern about Harry’s manner. “Caroline told me you had the talent of prophecy. I thought you would focus on studies about this.”

Caroline was a good mentor to Harry, but sometimes Harry really needed her to shut up. “Then you must understand that this ability couldn’t be obtained by training. I can’t teach my students to do things they essentially can’t do. Just like you can’t teach a fish how to fly.”

“Witches can’t fly, _essentially_ , but we still managed to figure out how to travel on brooms.” Zayn replied calmly, “Wouldn’t you be curious about your own ability? I once read a book suggesting prophecy only happens to one out of two hundred thousand people. Don’t you want to dig in more, if you’re the lucky one?”

“I’m not the lucky one.” Harry retorted. “And it’s not a talent either; it’s just a trait. Our eyes have different colours, that’s the same principle.”

Zayn raised his brow at him, and then continued to climb up the staircases without another word. Harry knew that he had deteriorated the conversation. “What do you study, then?” He changed the topic slickly with an easier tone. “I heard that your family has done a lot of research in witchcraft all over the world. That’s remarkable.”

It was quiet for a few seconds, but Zayn answered him eventually. “Thanks,” he gave Harry a shallow smile, “my father thinks it’s important to preserve the history and cultures of witches. We’ve lost a lot of precious traditions and resources through the centuries, especially during the craze of witch hunting. So don’t get me wrong, I think it’s cool that you devote yourself to the history of magic.”

Harry responded with a strained smile.

“And to your question, I have a strong passion in alchemy.” Zayn finished.

“Alchemy?” Harry snorted before he could stop himself, then he couched to his fist and rephrased. “I’m sorry, I was just kinda surprised that you’d be interested in that.”

“How so?” Zayn asked mildly, didn’t seem to be offended by Harry’s reaction. Harry shrugged as he reached the end of the stairs, “Alchemists – or I should call them frauds – in the Middle Ages used their smart tricks to fool the kings and land lords so they could make a fortune, while the real witches were burned at the stake. That’s ironic.”

“So you don’t believe in alchemy?”

“There are a lot of evidences proving alchemy isn’t real.” Harry replied, “Gold is an element, not a compound. You can’t create gold by smelting metals.”

“Alchemy isn’t just about the gold.” Zayn explained patiently, “The meaning and wisdom behind alchemy are more than human being’s pure greed. Your idea about alchemy is just skin deep. Magic is about possibilities, I’m more surprised that you choose to deny it before trying to understand it.”

Harry’s having a bit of the sulks, “Okay?” he queried in a high pitch, “so what do you know about alchemy then? Enlighten me.”

“I will, but not at this moment.” Zayn replied tersely.

“Not at this moment?”

The suitcases were slammed on the floor suddenly. Harry turned around to the sound, and Zayn was staring at him without the smile on his face a while ago. “Look, Harley –”

“ _Harry.”_

Zayn disregard his correction, carrying on his incomplete sentence. “I really don’t know what I did wrong, so if I somehow offended you, I apologise. But so far you’ve been giving me nothing but a cold shoulder. I was even wondering if I gave the cabbie the wrong address because you didn’t act like the person Caroline described to me.” He narrowed his eyes, “if we’re both gonna stay in this coven for the rest of our lives, you should make it clear right now.”

Harry’s mouth was half-opened as Zayn stepped backward and waited for his answer. A couple seconds later, he shut his dry lips and cleared his throat, deliberating upon what to say to keep the politeness. “I didn’t mean to be rude, I apologise too.” He regained his composure and said, “It’s just – well, excuse me if I misunderstood, but I just think, um, it was a bit unnecessary…for you to keep showing off your magic.”

His answer was baffling to Zayn, “I – showing off? I’m sorry?” He laughed tentatively, trying to figure out if Harry was joking with him. “Are you talking about your phone and my cases? I mean... That’s how you define showing-off? By being a witch and using the most basic magic?”

“No!” Harry protested, “there's nothing wrong with using magic. But you keep acting like a five-year-old who just learnt his first ever trick and can't wait to let the entire world know.”

“I was just trying to help.”

“Or brag.”

“Really?” Zayn wriggled his brows, throwing his palms up. “Alright. But do you wanna know how I define showing-off, your royal highness, the Prince of Wales?” He mocked as he walked toward a landscape painting on the wall, placing his index finger on the waterfall in the middle of the picture. Within five seconds, Harry could hear the gurgle of the water echoing in the air.

“What the –”

Harry hadn’t even finished his exclamation, and Zayn had already moved his fingers to the flower bushes along the riverbank. There was a quick quake outspreading from the central of the painting to the edge of the ceiling and the floor by the side of Harry’s feet. Harry opened his arms to balance himself, but it wasn’t the wall that his fingertips touched. He looked up subconsciously, and almost fell on his knees when he realised the thing he grabbed was a bunch of vines growing out of the canvas and sprawling through the entire wall outside the frame. When Harry loosed his hand, he could still smell the fragrance of fresh grass between his fingers. He turned around to look at Zayn out of startle. And Zayn was only picking a flower between the vines leisurely.

“It was very nice to meet you too, Harry.” He handed the flower to Harry with a gratified smirk. Then he squatted down to lift his suitcases, shutting his door right in front of Harry, who’s holding the flower alone with bulging eyes.

The waterfall was still flowing.

 

Harry was lying in his bed, pillowing one of his arms under his head, holding the pinkish flower he was gifted to ten minutes ago with another hand. His brows knitted as he rolled himself to the other side, pouting at the mystery rose-like flower. Eventually he sat up, with his legs dangling at the edge of the plank. He tried to make the small flower float above his palm, but it rarely left his hand. Harry twisted his head to look at his cat that was taking a nap in her spot.

“Do you think I can turn it into black?”

The question was partially directed to himself. Molly only replied with a blurry grunt. So Harry turned back to gaze at the flower that was still struggling to rise up from his fingers. _Focus_ , he whispered to himself. _The Basic Theory of Witchcraft and Magic, Chapter Two: Transfiguration, page 152._ Harry recited the book that his grandmother forced him to swallow alive during his childhood. _To change the appearance of a natural substance, one must be certain of the consequence they want to accomplish, and transfers their orders through the spiritual contact…_

Harry opened his eyes. One third of the glossy petals had turned into blue. Molly made a disapproving noise.

“At least the colour changed.” Harry defended, shoving the flower into the nearest bottle. “I’m progressing.”

He stood up to approach the window, resting his elbows on the sill as he held his chin with a frustrated sigh. The sun had only reached the middle of the sky, he still had hours to wait till the kids and the rest of the coven came back. He could hear Zayn arrange his stuff on the other side of the wall, with his mature magic probably. And that pulled Harry’s heart down to even lower.

The sorority house was located in a quiet area at the upper part of the hillside, close to the witch neighbourhood and distancing away from the downtown. Following up the slopes, there was a habitat of unicorns. The coven built a huge garden along the river and the woods as the border to keep the precious creatures safe, and also used it as a native greenhouse to cultivate rare plants for study and potions.

Harry could see the garden clearly in his room. It had become one of his favourite places to be after Taylor purposely declined his existence from the kids. It was also another place for him to get solid excuses avoiding using magic. Harry wasn’t a genius in herbology either, but at least those plants wouldn’t judge him for mistaking lavenders and verbenas. He sighed once again and picked Molly up from the floor. “If you wanna go for a walk you’d better move now, or I’mma close the window.”

Molly licked his cheek fondly, and then jumped up to the branches outside the window. Harry watched her disappear into the leaves, then turned around to push his door open.

Zayn’s door was wide opened as well. He raised his head and met Harry’s eyes when he heard Harry closed the door. One of his suitcases was on the floor, with piles of heavy books scattering around, including a collection of Marvel magazines. Harry’s pretty sure he saw a poster of Nicki Minaj too.

“Where are you going?” Zayn asked. He had taken his leather jacket off, with only a simple piece of tanktop on. There were a snake and a tiger tattoo on each of his biceps. Harry withdrew his sight on Zayn’s bare skin and answered shortly, “The herb garden.”

“The herb garden?” Zayn’s eyes sparkled, “Where is it? Can I follow?”

 _Of course not._ “Sure.” Harry blurted out with a shrug. “It’s kinda boring though. I just need to collect some stuff for the class.” He added immediately. It wasn’t really a lie. That was Harry’s daily task after his demotion.

“Wouldn’t be as boring as these chores.” Zayn laughed, throwing away the shirt in his hands. It folded itself in the air and landed on the bed neatly. Harry tried to keep his face steady.

“Is it far from here?” Zayn asked again as he walked out of the room in a different outfit. It was a printed jacket with the pattern of navy blue leaves and flowers in coral red – a typical style that would drive Harry’s grandmother crazy. Harry adjusted the collar of his plain black shirt, “Not really. Only ten minutes by walking.”

“I heard that if we’re lucky, we could see unicorns on the hills.”

“Unfortunately we aren’t.” Harry answered in a stiff tone as they walked down the stairs, “It is the breeding season for them, so they usually hide in the woods or in the caves. If you actually meet them during this period of time, especially the mares, that means you’re fucked.”

Zayn laughed, “What a pity. Are they the only local creatures around?”

“Well,” Harry mused wearily, “Years ago there was a vampire residence settling here.”

“Vampire?” Zayn sounded delighted, but Harry spoiled his excitement right away. “They were expelled after one of the vampires broke the bargain and attacked a child in the witch village. The little girl didn’t make it through.”

“Oh.” Zayn muttered faintly, “I didn’t know that.”

The long silence accompanied them during the entire way to the garden. The weather was warm and pleasant, but Harry felt cold inside. He didn’t dare to glimpse at Zayn who was walking quietly beside him. The slowly growing guilt in his heart reminded him what a nuisance he had been toward Zayn. The negativity in his words was unnecessary and repulsive. Zayn was right; what he had done in front of Harry was totally normal for a grown witch like him. There was nothing wrong with his behaviour. He accused Zayn for being childish. But in comparison, he’s the one being immature.

“I should apologise to you.”

Harry tilted his head. The one who broke the stillness wasn’t him.

“What?”

“For my attitude previously.” Zayn said as they stopped by a shrub of rosemary. He touched the tiny leaves and continued, “I know that was a bit extra. I just – I just can’t control myself when I thought about what Caroline had told me, about how great a witch you are.” He said, turning his face at Harry, “I’m sorry for acting like an idiot. Those tricks must be so easy to you. I can understand why that pissed you off.”

Harry didn’t know what to answer. He just stared the plants that all looked similar in front of him, trying to identify which ones were what he needed to collect. Why couldn’t they just put a sign for each of them?

“If you want me to leave you alone, I can just look around myself.”

“It’s fine.” Harry finally opened his mouth. He hated how awkward his voice sounded. “And to be honest…I had no idea how you managed to do that.”

Zayn eyed him, curious. “About the painting?”

 _About everything._ “Yeah.” Harry knelt down to hide his blushing face behind the spearmints. “It was…it was impressive. I’ve never seen magic like that.”

“Actually, my mum taught me this trick only a couple weeks ago.” Zayn admitted, cackling, “To turn something lifeless into real, you have to make it believe that it has its own soul… Kinda like hypnotism. You must be very clear and confident with your command. I still haven’t completely caught the knack of this trick. When we go back there later, the plants probably had died. But my mum’s could last for months.”

Harry nodded clumsily. Zayn’s explanation had no difference with what textbooks had taught Harry.

“And I, um, should apologise to you too…for what I said about alchemy.” Harry mumbled, “I shouldn’t have argued with you over something I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry.” Zayn replied with a gentle smile, “I know it’s never easy to convince people with this idea. That’s why I’m doing my best to study it.”

“Maybe you can try to convince me again while I finish my job.” Harry said as he looked for some mugworts.

“Well...” Zayn mused, following his steps and explained, “Let’s say, the system of alchemy is consisted with the four Classical elements: water, fire, earth, and air, in addition to two other philosophical elements: sulphur, representing the principle of combustibility; and mercury, representing the principle of metallic properties. Or, according to the Swiss alchemist, Paracelsus, there’s also another element: salt, representing the principle of solidity, which make the so-call _tria prima_ : soul, spirit and body.”

Zayn paused for a second, giving Harry some times to comprehend, and then he continued. “We can say alchemy is a study of the substances in our world, and defining the identity of the human beings.”

“I see.” Harry reviewed the information he’d been given, “So it’s like – combining Mother Nature with human body in a, uhm, spiritual way?”

“Not just in a spiritual way. To Paracelsus, alchemy was not about making gold and silver. His aim was to contribute the virtue of alchemy in medicines.”

Harry’s hand stopped on the witch hazels as he frowned and whispered, “… _the philosopher’s stone_.”

“Rumours suggested that he had discovered the philosopher’s stone. That’s why nobody knows when he passed away, or if he _did_ pass away.”

“I doubt that.” Harry said directly, “I mean, I do not question the contribution those alchemists have dedicated for the later generations. But I don’t believe in the philosopher’s stone.”

Zayn didn’t say a word, so Harry went on with his theory, “If Paracelsus did find the philosopher’s stone, the world would have been so much different. Eternity isn’t something the human beings deserve. The world has changed a lot since witches created magic. Imagine if we created the immortal life too.”

“I agree.” Zayn replied in a solemn tone, “But I don’t agree with what you said that…witches ‘created’ magic. We didn’t create magic. We _discovered_ it.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as he bent down to brush the grasses, but Zayn gripped his wrist immediately.

“Watch out the nettles. They could sting your skins.” Zayn alerted him thoughtfully. Harry knew he should appreciate Zayn’s kindness, but he swung away his hand and reiterated the question. “What do you mean?”

With a cold eye, Zayn whispered bitterly. “You’re welcome.” Then he pushed his fringe aside and answered, “Magic is not an invention. It has existed for over billions of years, even before our world was created. Or I should say, it was magic that created our world. It was out there for us to discover.”

“If magic has already existed,” Harry debated, “then how come only certain people can be blessed by its existence? Why can’t everyone use magic?”

“The same reason why you have the talent of prophecy.” Zayn replied, “Some people can sing, some people can draw, some can dance and some can write, while some can do magic. That’s the thing.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Every space in this world is filled with magic, Harry.” Zayn expounded again, walking pass the bush of nettles and faced at Harry. “It’s in the clouds, it’s in the water. It’s in these thymes and it’s in your blood. It’s _everywhere_.”

“That still doesn’t explain why some people can’t use magic.” Harry sneered at his conception, “Air is everywhere too, and everyone can breathe it.”

“But not everyone knows how to produce oxygen with the air they breathe, I suppose?” Zayn sniffed, “A lot of people have magic running in their veins, but they never sense it and never know how to use it.”

A spark of anger had been flaming in Harry’s chest. “So you really think we didn’t create magic?”

“Magic can’t be created.” Zayn strengthened his voice, “We only borrow magic from Mother Nature. It’s like a circulation, one day we all need to return it when we’re buried under the ground. Magic is a fair trade. That’s what we all have learnt, remember? Every witch should respect the nature and be humble for the magic they receive because it is not our own power.”

“Then what makes a witch outstanding, if we all receive the power equally?”

“Communication.” Zayn stated. “Witchcraft is basically a communication between witches and Mother Nature. What makes us different individually is the way we transfer our messages. Just like how I made the waterfall in the painting come to life. I can only make it streaming but my mother could probably turn it into Niagara Falls. How we communicate with the host of magic is the point.”

“So you’re suggesting…” Harry threw his bag onto his shoulder. He hadn’t finished his work, but he’s not in the mood anymore. “If a person – a _witch_ – couldn’t even perform the easiest sorcery, it’s because Mother Nature wouldn’t respond to them?”

“Possibly.”

“What do you think that causes this problem?”

Zayn shrugged, “There are a lot of factors. Life style, environment, anything. And most important, their will power.”

“Good.” Harry uttered callously, turning to the opposite side. He needed to bite his lip tightly to stop his eyes from heating.

 

The rest of the coven came back around five in the evening, but Harry didn’t feel much relieved after they returned to the house. He didn’t have a chance to talk to Taylor or the other witches. Partially because he didn’t want to; partially because they didn’t even have time for him. The coming of Zayn brought a brand new emotion to the coven after a depressing week. Zayn was genial, courteous and – Harry couldn’t deny it – very charming to everyone. While Zayn told the story about his trip in India, Harry was sitting two tables away from his seat, staring at the window and sipping his cold tea.

Harry couldn’t tell where exactly his anger came from. Perhaps he’s blaming Zayn for his arrogance, showing off his knowledge about magic. Perhaps he’s mad at himself for being a pathetic loser who’s now sulking alone with nothing but his teaspoon. He peeked at the story club at the other table, and then moved his fingers to make the sugar fly into his cup. The sugar bowl struggled for a moment, and then tumbled itself over on the table.

 _Fantastic_. Harry gnashed as he sensed that everyone’s attention had been attracted.

“Excuse me.”

He stood up and left the table immediately, avoiding the sight that Zayn’s shooting at him.


	3. Chapter Two

Harry was running. The long corridor seemed to be longer than a life time. His heart was racing as he blinked his eyes quickly, eager to figure out where he was. There was barely a light. The darkness trapped him inside this borderless space that made he begin to wonder if he would ever reach the end of the road. But he couldn’t stop. The time had no mercy for him to catch his breath.

His legs were numb, and every single piece of bones inside was hurting his body. He could feel the steam all over his skin as his blood boiled underneath. Harry was shaking, gulping from the thin air and forcing himself to keep moving. _Don’t give up_ , he whispered to himself. _Don’t give up yet. It’s not the time._

Suddenly, the darkness in front of him became a solid shield. He fell onto the floor when the invisible wall knocked him off. Harry was desperate to stand up again, but he had lost all his energy before he could escape. _It’s too late_. Harry found himself weeping. _It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

The ten swords were aimed at his direction. His last thought was a simple name.

 

A series of knocking was bumping on his door as he gasped rapidly in his bed. His temples were damped in sweat, and his heart was still beating hard at his chest. Harry took another gulp of air and clambered down the bed. He fisted his trembling hands, stretching out each finger discreetly, and then finally walking forward to open the door.

“Does it always take you a hundred year to wake up, sleeping beauty?”

The one standing outside his room was Kalisha, the eldest witch of the coven. She was seven years older than Harry, but her knowledge of incantation and Voodoo was not a seventy-year-old witch could compare.

“What’s wrong, Kal?” Harry rubbed his eyes.

“Well here’s the thing. I’m going to teach the kids how to cast a magic circle today.” Kalisha answered, flinging her long hair over her shoulder, “We’re not going to summon anything. But to protect the kids from any possible incidence, I need some helpers.”

Harry widened his eyes at her. He was usually the last person to be considered when they required help.

“Beatrice was supposed to be my assistance today.” Kalisha explained as she noticed the change on Harry’s face, “Unfortunately, some travellers accidentally intruded the unicorn habitat. The whole coven is heading to handle the problem. So there are only _three_ of us here.”

“Um,” Harry frowned at the number he heard and muttered, “Do you mean –”

“Zayn would be in class too, of course.” Kalisha read his mind again, “He’s really looking forward to meeting the kids. And I’m sure you two share the same feelings.”

Harry pursed his lip. Kalisha always reminded Harry of Caroline; the way they looked askance at Harry with one brow raising up was literally the same. “Okay.” He sighed, “But…is there anything you need me to note? You know I’m just not so…ugh…”

“Worry not.” Kalisha smiled at him and tapped his shoulder, “Just help me watch out the kids when they’re practicing the ritual. If you’ve already forgotten the procedures, I will explain it again to the class before we start. So don’t feel pressured.”

That was meant to make him feel at ease, but Harry felt really awkward with his own self. Despite the excitement to see the kids again, the way Kalisha spoke to him indicated that he’s treated the same way as his students. Harry closed the door after Kalisha walked away. He rested his forehead against the door, feeling fatigued to welcome his morning in a mess. When he turned around, he almost stumbled on Molly on the floor. She’s squawking a loud noise as Harry opened his wardrobe exhaustedly.

It took Harry longer than usual to decide his outfit for the day from the row of black shirts inside his wardrobe. The nightmare kept replaying in his head as he tried to distract himself with the pile of clothes. Those scenes had gone vague and Harry couldn’t remember the name echoing in his dream, but the trepidation still made him breathless.

Eventually he chose a fancy shirt that eased his emotion. Those sleeves and collars were decorated with golden lines, and the upper part was printed with floral embossments. Then he put on his classic jeans and a pair of black leather boots with double buckles. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at himself as he passed by the mirror: his grandmother’s rules still influenced him after twenty years. But Harry couldn’t argue with the fact that he really was much more confident to walk down the stairs now.

“Good morning.”

Harry yawned and uttered habitually as he walked into the dining room. His hand stopped in front of his mouth when he noticed there was only one person there. Zayn tilt his head from his tea, glimmering his hazel eyes at Harry. “I didn’t know I’m allowed to talk to you again.”

He closed the book next to him and grinned sincerely at Harry. Harry didn’t know what to answer, coughing to his fist as he escaped to the coffee machine. It had been five days since Zayn’s arrival, and they barely had any conversation after the first day. Zayn spent most of his time following around the other witches to learn the customs of the coven, while Harry locked himself inside the library or roamed through the herb garden all day long. It hadn’t even been a week, and Zayn had already been assigned to more tasks than Harry could do for the past months.

Harry did understand the wherefores behind the different treatments they received. But witnessing how obviously it was shown, Harry would rather be the one who’s going to die in a month. He stirred his coffee fiercely, thinking about how Taylor acted like she had forgotten the presence of her best friend. And Harry felt selfish to be mad at her at this very moment, especially with such an insignificant reason.

“Are you all right?”

The voice appearing unexpectedly almost made Harry spilled the hot coffee all over his feet. Zayn was standing behind him; his face was full of concern.

“I’m fine.” Harry replied in a contrived tone, not planning to share the nightmare with Zayn. “I – uh, is the life – I mean, like, how about you? Your brand new life here? So far so good?”

“Well,” Zayn gave him a crooked smile, “ _Most of_ people here are friendly to me. I guess I’m still trying.”

Harry glared at him, and then stared at the surface of his cup.

“Okay. I retrieve that.” Zayn raised one hand as an apology, “I was just thinking… Look, Harry. I don’t want to be enemies with you. There might be something wrong in the beginning, and I believe we can fix that.”

“Um,” Harry hesitated, not sure what he’s going to say.

“I’m going to dedicate my blood to the coven soon. I just don’t want to ruin this connection between us…and the other ladies too, of course.” He added, with the smile that made Harry bewildered. “So I hope this could be the chance we finally talk it through, maybe? To be honest, I was quite surprised when I realised you didn’t go for the unicorns.”

Harry put down his cup, “Uh, I won’t be helpful there anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What?” Harry asked harshly.

“I mean,” Zayn shrugged, “We’re both men.”

That did make sense. Unicorns only showed their courtesy to females, that’s a common sense. Harry’s cheeks were flushed with embarrassment when he thought about how ridiculous his reaction was. Somehow, it made him start laughing.

“Wow.” Zayn exclaimed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He mumbled. That smile still hadn’t faded away. “I was just delighted to see that you actually know how to smile. This is the first time I see your dimples.”

“They’re not even something special.”

“They’re cute.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth dropped immediately. He finished his coffee in a hurry, back at Zayn so he wouldn’t see the flush on his face. “The class is starting soon. We should get ready.” He murmured, excusing himself from the dining room right away.

 

Harry had missed the classroom; the fragrance of the wooden floor, the dust of chalks on the blackboard, the small bookshelves at the corner, and the cheerful noise when the kids swarmed in. What comforted Harry was, it appeared that his students missed him much as he missed them.

“Harry!” A girl with two ponytails wrapped her arms around his waist, “I miss you so much! Where did you go?”

“I missed you a lot too, Anita.” Harry whispered, giving her a warm hug. He took a quick glance at the door. Zayn was still outside the classroom, and he didn’t seem to notice what the little girl said.

“Can you turn my hair into purple this time? Pleaseee!” A little boy dragged his sleeve and bagged. Harry kneed down and smiled to him, “No, it’s not gonna happen today, Peter. Kalisha will show you something much cooler today, okay? Promise me that you will pay attention!”

More and more children were surrounding him as Zayn and Kalisha both walked into the room. Harry hastened the kids to go back to their seats when he saw Zayn headed toward his direction. He lifted himself up and stood behind the last line of the students. Zayn looked much more nervous than he ever was.

“Good morning, class.” Kalisha clapped her hands to get the attention from the kids, “I know you’re all very excited today. But before we start our class, I’ll need to introduce you guys to someone else first. Can we please welcome Mr. Zayn Malik with your loudest cheer?”

The whole classroom was applauding, even though some of the kids still didn’t know where to look at. Zayn’s entire face turned red as Kalisha led him to the front of the classroom. Harry pressed two fingers on his lips. He was surprised to notice that he was smiling again.

“Uh… H-hello, little buddies!” Zayn stuttered, forcing himself to make a proper opening. Some kids were waving at him, which encouraged him to continue in a much calmer tone. “You guys can call me Zayn. Although I’m older than all of you, I’m actually very new to this place. I’m not just here to teach you, I’m also here to study from you. Hopefully we can all learn a lot from each other!”

The room was full of applause again. A little boy next to Peter raised his hand, “Can you show us something? Harry turned our hair into orange last time. Can you do that too?! Just like that?”

He pointed at the silver highlight in Zayn’s fringe. It was Harry’s face turning red this time when the class laughed out loud. Zayn seemed pretty confused, but he grinned at the little kid as he answered his question. “I can show you guys something else after the class as a reward, if you all listen carefully to your teacher. Who knows, I can turn your hair into rainbow colours, maybe?”

All the kids started cheering and clapping their small hands. Kalisha stepped forward to replace him and tried to calm the class down. “Alright, you heard that! Today’s class is very important, so I need all of you to focus. Now, who can tell me what’s the main purpose of a magic circle?”

Zayn returned to the back of the classroom, standing next to Harry and rubbing his hands. “Was I doing good?”

“They like you.” Harry answered lightly. Zayn wasn’t really convinced. He leaned closer to Harry as whispered as Kalisha elaborated the history of magic circle. “You really think so? I mean…you have a great relationship with the kids. They all gathered around you right after you stepped into the room. That was amazing.”

“Amazing?” Harry cracked a laugh, “You think it’s impressive that I get along with kids?”

“I’m serious.” Zayn swept his lower lip with his thumb, drifting his eyes away, “A newly born dragon is probably easier for me to handle. I needed to imagine all of them as Arnie so I could start talking. They are lovely, but this is just a difficult mission for me. I really don’t know how to interact with them… Stop laughing!”

He hissed at Harry with a blush all over his cheeks, but Harry couldn’t stop himself from cackling. Harry pressed his lips with the back of his hand to hide the noise, but his shoulders were still trembling in amusement. Zayn sighed slightly, turning his face to the class again. “Anyway, I’m glad we finally had a proper conversation.”

Harry controlled his giggle and replied, “Perhaps we can talk as long as we don’t mention anything about magic.”

“Really?” Zayn turned to him, chuckling, “S’probably true. Every time we tried to discuss over magic, it all went wrong.”

Harry nodded in agreement, “Yeah. I guess we’re slowly getting back to the right pace now.”

“That’s a good sign.” Zayn suggested, “Maybe we should start over again like…with this new concept. A proper way to communicate.”

“Good idea.”

“And maybe we can get to know each other, finally.” Zayn smiled, looking at Harry as he waited for him to start the new topic. Harry ducked his head, weighing what he was supposed to say. “Alright, hmmm. What’s your star sign?”

“That’s what you can think about? You sound like a dating app.” Zayn teased, changing his tone when he received the glare from Harry. “Capricorn. My birthday is January twelfth, if you wonder. Yours?”

“Aquarius. First of February.”

Zayn wriggled his eyebrows, “First of February? So you were born on Imbolc –”

“Heeeey. We have a deal.” Harry pouted as a protest.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Zayn apologise, turning away to seek for his next question. “Well, well, well. If we’re gonna follow that pattern… What’s your favourite animal?”

“Cats.” Harry answered curtly. “Actually, I keep one in my room. She likes to take a walk in the afternoon, so you may meet her sometimes.”

“How did I not know that? What’s her name?”

“Molly.”

“A sweet name.” Zayn grinned, “Well, my favourite would be dogs.”

“Dogs? Seriously? I’m gonna tell Arnie.” Harry joked as Zayn laughed defensively, “That’s different. Arnie is my best friend, it doesn’t matter what kind of animal he is. Next question!”

Harry shrugged with a playful smile, “Alright. Are you a morning person or night person?”

“I’m a afternoon guy.” Zayn sniggered, “My sisters always need to drag me outta my bed every morning. It takes me at least one and half an hour to finally start functioning. I can never get away with this bad habit.”

His ears were painted in redness when Harry started giggling again, “I understand that.” Harry consoled him, “Even though I’m still more a morning person. The sunlight in the morning is always pleasing.”

“Pleasing enough to make me fall asleep again.” Zayn shook his head ruefully, “Anyway. Let me think… What’s your favourite season?”

“Autumn.”

“Me too. Good to know we finally agree on something.”

The smile on Harry’s face grew even wider. “Breaking news. Well, then, what’s your favourite colour?”

“Green.” Zayn replied, turning to look at Harry up and down. “I bet yours is black, right? I’ve only seen you wearing one colour, to be honest.”

“Nice try, but wrong answer.” Harry flipped his hair cockily, “My favourite colour is orange, the kind of colour you can find in the sky when it’s near dusk. I’m only wearing black because that’s my grandma’s rule.”

“Your grandma’s – what?”

“She has a list of strict rules about what makes a real witch. You wouldn’t believe it.” He sighed with a sad smile. “Before I learnt how to talk, she’s already been warning me every day: real witches wear heels, real witches wear black, and real witches don't fall in love.”

“I – is that a joke?” Zayn shook his head dramatically, “That’s some really old school theories. I can see that you’re completely brainwashed. You’re still obedient to her words after leaving home.”

“I’m not.” Harry retorted, crossing his arms at his chest. “She has her reasons, plus her rules are not really harmful to me. And you don’t know her – she might be watching us through her crystal ball right now. She’ll probably appear later.”

Zayn’s shoulders trembled, “I can’t imagine what kind of childhood you’ve been through. You’re lucky that you look good in black.”

Harry puckers his lips to contain the laughter, nudging Zayn’s waist stealthily. Zayn dodged his elbow, hiding himself behind Harry and asked impishly, “So you’ve never been in love with someone else? How is that possible? Either you’re lying or I was misled.”

“Misled?” Harry frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Zayn narrowed his eyes and answered in a blissful tone, “How about you and Taylor?”

Harry rolled his eyes. The rumour about them had been fumed since the day Harry joined the coven. “Our friendship is pure enough for you to summon a unicorn.”

Zayn gave him a suspicious look, “Okay? How about…what’s her name, Cara? I think there’s also another one… Na-Natalie? Nadine? You have a thing in blonde girls?”

“I’ve only talked to them like, twice. Who the fuck told –”

“Fine.” Zayn nodded slowly, “Then the guy named…Nick? The guy who sells potions in the market?”

“We’re just – what’s wrong with you?! Do you spend all your spared time gossiping?”

Zayn flung up his hands, tilting his head innocently. “You’d refused to talk to me since out last convo, so that’s all I could learn about you from what the ladies told me. I’m by no means trying to pry into your privacy. Luckily, we’ve found an opportunity for you to clarify it now.”

“I’ve _never_ dated anyone. Like, a serious relationship.” Harry lifted his chin.

“Mm-hmm.”

“For God’s sake,” Harry gasped and turned around to glare Zayn, “do you wanna start a fight again –”

“Gentlemen, please control yourselves.”

Kalisha’s rigorous voice interrupted their minor argument. She probably had tolerated them for a while. Harry and Zayn both looked upwards, realising half of the class was looking back at them curiously. Some little kids started tittering when Kalisha cleared her throat and gave them the admonishment. Her hands were on her hips as she raised her eyebrow at them.

“Sorry.” Zayn mumbled with a repentant smile, and then patted Harry’s lower back, reminding him to apologise. Harry made a slight bow with a flush on his cheek. He heard the kids giggling again and Kalisha’s soft sigh when she raised her volume up to get the students’ attention back.

Harry glanced at Zayn as the rest of the class withdrew their sights. He pouted his lip when he noticed that Zayn was still smiling. Zayn sensed his irritation, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “Alright, forget about it. I shouldn’t have made fun of this.” He breathed with a smirk, “But – okay, let me finish this and I will stop. Either way you shouldn’t let your grandmother’s words trap you. You might think this is cliché, but I believe what makes a witch powerful is not a cold heart.”

His voice was so mollifying that Harry’s face softened, “Thanks for your concern. I thought we promised not to mention anything about magic again.”

“My bad.” Zayn chuckled, “We shall change the topic, then. I don’t know…maybe, maybe you can introduce the kids to me?”

“You sure?” Harry cocked his head to one side with a mocking smile, “There are twenty-six of them. Are you trying to memorize each of them in five minutes?”

“I have to remember them all, sooner or later.” Zayn murmured, pulling himself away, “If I could at least remember their names, they might be more open-minded with me… I don’t know. You’re an expert.”

Harry laughed proudly, “They are always open-minded.” He beamed at Zayn, and then curled his index finger slightly to point at the kids. “The little boy who asked you to show your tricks, that’s Darren. The one next to him is Peter. They are the troublemakers of the class. You should keep their names in your mind.”

“I’ve learnt that already.” Zayn sniffed. Harry smiled and continued, “And the girl with long brunette hair – the one in the left, they all look similar in the back… She is Magda. Her mother is Ms. Padilla, Lynette Padilla. You might have heard of the story about how she chopped a basilisk’s head off with her bare fists.”

“I haven’t. But I guess I will never upset that little girl.”

“Clever decision.” Harry grinned, “And the girls next to Magda… The shorter one is Florence, but she prefers to be called Flora. The taller one is Beth, Flora’s elder sister. She’s really afraid of butterflies. I still have no idea why. The girl whispering to her now is Vicky. They are best friends. But Vicky doesn’t know Beth likes Darren too… I promised to keep the secret, oops. And that’s Vera…”

“Wait, wait. Give me sometimes to consume this.” Zayn extended one hand to stop him, looking nervous. “Ugh…so the long haired girl is Magda, whose mother killed a basilisk. The one next to her is F-F-Flora? Her sister is Beth, right? Beth’s best friend is Vera…”

“No, her best friend is Vicky. Vera is the one with glasses.”

“Oh, right. And they both fancy Darren? But Vicky doesn’t know that?”

“Correct. Hey, you’re doing pretty well.”

It was still a perplexing mission for Zayn, but eventually Harry finished naming every child in the class. Zayn had a hard time matching the names with their personal trivia. “Wait, tell me again who is Jasmine? And who is Yazmeen? I can’t believe you guys put two girls with such similar names in the same class.”

“Jasmine is the girl with curly hair. She’s very good at transfiguration.” Harry explained patiently, “And Yazmeen is the shy girl in the corner. She had the highest score in my class.”

“How did you manage to remember all of these?” Zayn gave out a hopeless sigh, while Harry laughed in satisfaction. “I think I’ve forgotten everything already. It’s harder than remembering any spell I’ve learnt.”

Harry couldn’t stop giggling, which made Zayn start to laugh with him. “I guess seeing me being a loser makes you really happy.”

“Don’t say that, Zayn.” Harry shut his laughter. His voice got weaker as he realised it was the first time he called Zayn’s name directly. “S-S’good that we can be, um, talking this way.”

“I guess our no-magic policy works.” Zayn smiled, “Does that mean we’re good now?”

Harry wiggled his shoulders, giving him a vague answer. “As long as you stop being a smug, I can consider that.”

“Right, I will watch myself.” Zayn surrounded, “But in that case, you also need to stop overreacting to my opinions. Deal?”

Harry pursed his lips, “Deal.”

Kalisha’s introduction about magic circle had come to a close. She made the students stand up and then wielded her arm. The tables and the chairs floated upon and floor, arranging themselves along the walls. Kalisha clapped her hands again, “Okay, listen up, class! The room is not big enough for us to practice, so I need you to divide into two groups. One stays here and the other follows Harry and Zayn to next room, savvy? There’s no herb added in the candles, so we’re not actually summoning anything. But you still have to be very careful. Now move yourselves!”

The kids soon separated into two groups. Zayn pushed Harry forward to make him lead the children. Harry turned around to give him a victorious sneer, but Zayn tumbled his long fringe as revenge. The kids behind them burst into laughter.

Nevertheless, the pleasant atmosphere didn’t last too long as the kids walked into the other room and saw the circle Kalisha drew before class. Harry examined the edge of the circle carefully, making sure the elaborate patterns were traced correctly. Zayn explained the procedure of the ritual once again, trying to ease the tense atmosphere that had already spread through the children.

“Don’t worry, guys.” Harry knelt down to encourage the little kids with the warmest smile, “It’s not as hard and scary as you think. Just take a deep breath and hold your classmates’ hands tightly. Zayn and I will be around you so everything will be fine, alright?”

Zayn closed the door and the windows whilst Harry assigned each of the students to their position in the circle. After the curtains were drawn, the only lights in the room were the candles surrounded by the circle. The kids followed Zayn’s instruction and closed their eyes, holding the hands on the each side.

“Clear your mind, focus on the connection with your partners.” Zayn’s soothing voice echoed in the room.

Harry could feel a cool breeze passing his collarbones and fingertips. The door and the windows were shut, but they were shuddering from an unknown strength. The blazes of the candles were flickering erratically as the wind got stronger. In the dead silence of the room, Harry heard a fragile weep clearly.

“Beth?” Harry whispered. He wasn’t sure where she was in the darkness. But he saw Zayn’s dim figure squatted down next to her.

“I-I-I can’t do this.” The little girl’s voice trembled, “I’m scared. C-can we stop?”

“You’re doing very well, Beth.” Zayn mumbled gently, “Don’t loose your hands. Your friends are all around you. I’m here with you too. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

“I don’t like th-this.” Beth choked on her sob, “I can hear…weird sounds. Someone’s talking. I don’t-I don’t…”

Beth’s fear had influenced the entire circle. Before Zayn could try to persuade her again, the lights of the candles extinguished all of sudden. Some kids started to scream.

“Keep holding your hands!” Harry exclaimed in the dark, “It’s fine, everyone! It happens sometimes. Don’t panic and keep holding your hands.”

Beth couldn’t hold her tears anymore. Harry could hear her crying somewhere in the room, along with Zayn’s comforting words. “You’re not alone here, Beth. The voices you hear are from the nice spirits attracted by the circle. They wouldn’t harm you. You’re safe in the circle, okay?”

There was no answer. Harry guessed she just nodded quietly.

“Good girl.” It was Zayn’s voice again. “Now we will finish this together, alright? Harry, can you light the candles for us?”

Harry stopped his movement, freezing.

“Harry?” Zayn asked again, unsure if Harry heard his request. “Can you light the candles, please?”

Harry covered his mouth, in case someone heard his rapid panting. He seized his forearm with his spare hand, shivering as he regretted asking Zayn to stop being a smug. Now Zayn was redeeming his promise, leaving the chance for Harry to show his own power. But all Harry could do was stand in the same spot, shaking hopelessly.

“Harry?”

Zayn’s voice was full of worry. _Light the fucking candles_. Harry pled with his own self. He couldn’t even remember any paragraph in his textbook. _Please_ , his lips quivered from desperation. _Please. Please. Give me a miracle and light the candles_. Harry was at the edge to beg out loud. _JUST LIGHT THE CANDLES._

The fire had returned in a blink. All the candles were sparking again. But Harry knew deeply in his mind that it wasn’t his power bringing back the lights. He couldn’t even raise his head now. He couldn’t face those two wide-opened eyes that were locked on him right now in shock and confusion.

If there was any vicious spirit around, Harry wished they could just take his soul away.

 

The sky was clean as plain blue canvas, embellished with thin and flimsy clouds around the incandescent sunlight. Harry didn’t check his clock, but he bet it was already past ten in the morning. He rolled to the shadowed side of his bed, covering his face under his long hair. Molly had given up scratching his cabinet, pushing the casement open with her small paws and seeking the breakfast by herself. Harry let out a quiet sigh, brushing his fringe aside and looking up at his tiny room. His fingers fell as he noticed the half-blue rose on his desk.

Harry still didn’t plan on moving his body, neglecting his phone buzzing aside his pillow. For the past few days he had been pretending ill in his room and avoiding all the interactions with any of the people in the house. In the afternoon he would sit in the middle of the herb garden until the sun disappeared into the horizon. And then he headed back to the house, skipping the dinner and spending the rest of evening in the library. He didn’t want to talk or even see anyone. Taylor knocked on his door last night, but Harry just put on his headphones and hid himself under the blanket.

It was pathetic. Harry finally pulled his body away from the mattress, biting his nails and staring at his wardrobe in a trance. Prisoning himself inside his room wouldn’t help him feel better, but Harry didn’t have any motivation to walk through his door. Laziness and frustration fettered his ankles. Harry managed to stand up and opened his wardrobe, trying to find a piece of cloth that could boost his emotion a bit.

He left his room eventually, hovering in front of the entrance before he stepped into the dining room. To his relief, Zayn wasn’t in there. He made himself a cup of tea, sitting down next to the floor to ceiling windows as Kalisha approached to his seat.

“Good morning, Kal.” Harry greeted leisurely, sipping his tea quickly that almost burned his lips. Kalisha crossed her arms and sat down to the opposite side of the table, looking steadily at Harry without a word.

“Do you need me to get you something?” Harry asked brightly. “I woke up pretty late, not sure if there’s anything left in the kitchen –”

“Enough, Harry.” Kalisha stopped him, “What’s wrong with you recently?”

Harry raised his pitch blissfully, “Who – me? I don’t know what you meant. I feel fantastic. Is everything all right with the unicorns? I hope the problem has been solved.”

“Their condition is way better than yours. Don’t change the topic.” Kalisha snapped, “Taylor said she tried to talk to you yesterday, but you wouldn’t answer the door. You’d better give me a rational reason to explain your impoliteness.”

Harry stopped stirring his tea, faltering his voice, “I’m sorry. I will apologise to her in person.”

“You should, dear.” Kalisha soothed her tone, “But seriously, Harry. What happened to you? You’ve been acting strangely after my class. Can you tell me why?”

She interlocked her fingers under her chin and waited for Harry to answer. Harry stuttered, keeping his head down to stare at a stain on the table. A few quiet moments passed, Kalisha sighed and put down her hands. “I also asked Zayn about what happened when you guys left my classroom. His reaction was the same as yours. Did you have an argument? I thought you had a lovely chat with him that almost interrupted my class?”

“I will deal with my problem with him.” Harry promised. He was a bit surprised that Zayn didn’t tell her anything. “I’m sorry for my behaviour these days. It won’t happen again.”

“Zayn was really worried about you, though.”

“Oh.” Harry muttered, forgetting to hide the bitterness in his voice. Kalisha raised her brow, straightening up to look at Harry. “I don’t know what’s going on with two of you. But whatever is happening there, I hope it’s just temporary. And you should come down and have dinner with us again. Zayn shared a lot of interesting experience with us, and I think it would be great for you to have a listen.”

“Fine.”

Kalisha sighed again, “I’m not blaming you, Harry. It’s just…I wish there wouldn’t be any conflict inside our coven, alright? Especially at this moment, we’re supposed to unite together. Zayn will be part of us really soon. And – maybe I was wrong, but according to what I’ve seen, he’s done nothing but showing his best kindness to you. So you should repay him the same he deserves.”

Harry didn’t reply. He found it ironic that nobody seemed to care about it when the other witches purposely distanced him.

“Can you do that, for the coven, please?”

“Yes.” Harry finally gave in. “For the coven, of course.”

 

Even so, Harry still decided to keep himself busy in the garden for the rest of the day. But just when he had almost approached the gate, he realised that he didn’t bring the note listing the plants he needed. So he returned to the building, and then heard a familiar sound at the corner.

“Heeeey, little girl.”

Molly was wiggling her tail, but she didn’t react to Harry’s voice. Recalling his attitude to her in the morning, Harry moved to her direction and tried to give her a hug. “Sorry, Molly. I didn’t mean to ignore you. Have you got something to eat? Do you wanna take a walk with me –”

He almost bumped into someone when he followed Molly’s steps and turned around at the corner. Harry raised his head immediately, but the apology couldn’t come out of his lips.

“Aw, you’re Molly, right? Nice to meet you, pretty girl.”

Zayn bent forward to touch Molly’s furs with a huge smile. Molly let out a satisfied meowing, licking his fingertips as a reward. Zayn looked up while adjusting his posture. His eyes widened as he saw Harry standing bashfully in front of him.

“Hi.” Zayn said lightly, “Where have you been?”

He loosened his fingers and stood up slowly. Molly passed his legs and left both of them in the awkward silence. Harry drifted his eyes to the flowerpots along the corridor, “Nothing. Just minding my own business.”

“Are you all right?”

Harry hated that everyone sounded like he had just lost his beloved family member. “Couldn’t be better, thank you. If there’s nothing else, I’d need to go.”

“Wait!” Zayn blocked his way as Harry tried to excuse himself, “Where are you going? It was like a century ago when I saw your face. Why do you keep avoiding me?”

“Huh? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy avoiding me, you meant? What a great liar you are, Styles.” He grasped Harry’s wrist, not giving Harry a chance to run away. “I thought we’d finally reconciled. Why are you doing this again?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” Harry replied fretfully, trying to jerk his hand back, “Let me go!”

“Listen, Harry.” Zayn pulled him closer, “Can’t we jus talk this through? Those words – those stupid words I had said to you before I learnt _your problem_ …I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t know I was hurting your feeling.”

Harry sniffed, gulping from his anger, “My problem? _My problem?_ You speak like you’re a consultant or therapist. But thanks, I don’t need your advices or treatment. I don’t need you to remind me that I’m a fucking loser who can’t even light the damn candles.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Is it not? You’ve been here for nearly two weeks. But all you’ve done is make me feel worse and worse everyday.” Harry yelled back, voice hoarsening, “I tried to accept you for the own good of the coven, and the only way I can proceed to fill my responsibility is to keep you out of my eyes.”

“But you’re not a loser to me.” Zayn said exhaustedly, “I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, and I don’t want to make you feel that way. Can you just calm down and listen to me?”

“We have nothing to discuss here.” Harry retorted, “Just fucking leave me alone!”

“Wow, Zayn, you’ve got yourself a tough one this time?”

A voice came from nowhere interrupted their quarrel. Harry gasped and stepped back immediately, swinging Zayn’s hand away. He stood transfixed and twisted his head to look for the source of the unknown sound, then his eyes locked on the mirror on the wall. Harry almost let out a loud squeal.

“Hello, Mr. Crybaby,” The figure in the mirror grinned at him quirkily, “You’ve wakened me up from my nap, which I really don’t appreciate. But I saw a really interesting scene here. Have we ever met?”

Harry exclaimed, “What the hell –”

“Did someone just say ‘hell’?” The figure chanted excitedly, “You heard that, Zayn? I love this pun!”

“Go away, Louis!” Zayn shouted at the mirror, enraged and frustrated, “Leave him alone!”

“Why were you grabbing him, Zayn? Are you finally paying your debt?” The figure named Louis sparkled his blue eyes, pressing his face against the mirror as he tried to peek at Harry, “That’s the best soul you’ve ever found for me! If you still don’t wanna give me Liam, then I want this one!”

Harry was startled, “What?”

“Don’t talk to him.” Zayn walked toward Harry and took his hand again, tugging him away from the mirror.

“Come back! You prick!” Louis knocked the glass furiously. “You’re still gonna pay me anyway! You can’t run away from me for the rest of your life, Zayn! I will always be watching you!”

Louis’s resentful sound faded into distance after Zayn dragged Harry to the other side of the corridor. Harry was still looking back the place where the mirror was hung, panting as he recollected the apparition he just saw.

“Wha-what the fuck is that?!” Harry puffed heavily, seeking answers from Zayn.

Zayn turned upon him, face blushing. “Well…” He stammered, “Uh, when I was twelve or thirteen, my parents left me and my cousin Jawaad at home. I wanted to finish the novel I was really into, but he wouldn’t stop bothering me.” His voice was regretful, “I read something about dark magic the other day. Therefore I was trying to scare him with what I learnt so he could shut the hell up.”

“And?” Harry frowned, “You created _that_?”

“I didn’t ‘create’ it… I was, uh, trying to summon something from the mirror. I didn’t know it actually worked.” Zayn buried half of his face into his palm, “Then Louis just showed up in my room, claiming that he’s the angel of the hell. And I needed to give my soul to him.”

Harry gasped again, “You made a deal with the _devil_?”

“I didn’t!” Zayn denied quickly, “That’s why he won’t stop following me around, asking me to pay my debt. I refused to give him my soul, so he changed his target to the people around me.”

“And who is Liam?”

“My childhood friend.” Zayn answered, “We’re study partners as well. He’s a very smart and nice person. Louis wouldn’t stop harassing him after they met by accident...just like your case.” He tossed a sorry look at Harry, “You should be careful with the mirrors. Don’t respond if he tries to talk to you.”

He lowered his arm when he realised Harry’s wrist was still in his hand. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?”

The sudden interlude had cooled Harry down from his anger. He shook his head serenely, “I…I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. I was just really upset…at myself, after what happened in class. I was so embarrassing.”

“It was my fault.” Zayn said with a tender voice, “I’ve been giving you a lot of pressure, and I wasn’t aware of that.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply, so he forced a smile and asked, “I’m going to the herb garden later, you wanna come…?”

“Well, unfortunately, I have to assist Heather’s astrology class.” Zayn declined gently, “I will meet you after class, if you’re still there?”

He turned away, walking ahead to the opposite side. Harry listened to his treads vanishing into the end. His heart felt empty.


	4. Chapter Three

Zayn didn't show up before Harry left the garden. Harry headed back to the house alone as the sunset fell on his shoulders, painting his pale skin into his favourite colour. Molly was sitting at the porch when he came back, waiting for him to tickle her nape. The lights in the dining room had been on already. Harry thought about Kalisha's words in the morning. He hesitated for a second, but still turned around to go upstairs.

Fatigue enveloped his whole body promptly. Harry poured the water down his hair in the shower, trying to keep himself awake for a few more hours. The water carried warmth through every inch of his naked skin, but Harry still felt cold. He looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror. Recalling his experience in the morning, Harry closed the shower curtain in a hurry with a disgusted noise.

He swept his long, damp fringe aside, sighing at the porcelain tiles as he weighed whether to join his coven later or not. After days of being isolated, he began to feel lonely for the first time. Or maybe he just finally decided to admit it. Harry stepped out of the shower room tiptoe, feeding Molly again and getting himself ready to go downstairs. But he fell asleep before he could dry his hair.

 

Harry woke up to his nightmare when he found himself heaving for air in bed again. He closed his eyes, extending his legs and facing at the ceiling. His hair was still half wet, curling its tail up from the cool air at midnight. Harry combed his hair with his fingers, sitting up to look for his phone. The screen flashed 1:19 am as he leaned his back against the wall, counting his breath and trying to forget about the dream.

The Ten of Swords continued to repeat in his brain night after night with different scenes. This time he was in somewhere underneath the sorority house that he had never been to, with the sword racking against his neck. He could almost hear his own blood dribbling down.

They were much closer. The idea horrified him, especially when he was still clueless. A voice in his heart was telling him that it was not just about Taylor. Something even more horrendous was coming to the coven, and coming to Harry himself. But Harry didn't even know how to prepare for the incoming catastrophe, besides trembling in his bathrobe alone in the middle of the night.

Eventually he stopped shaking, replacing his bathrobe with a thin t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, taking a deep breath before he pushed the door open. He needed some fresh air.

The coldness wasn't the first thing he noticed when he approached to the balcony. Harry wasn't the only one who's still awake at the moment. Zayn was looking back at him in surprise when he heard Harry's steps. He's resting his arms on the railing, with a cigarette between his fingers.

“Sorry.” Harry didn't know why he's apologising, but that was his first thought when Zayn breathed out the smoke. Zayn chuckled at his strange reaction. “Why? You didn't do anything wrong.” He exhaled another fume, “you wanna share the balcony? I can put this away if it's bothering you.”

“It's fine.” Harry walked forward to stand next to him, “my grandma used to smoke waterpipe all the time. If I could survive that, yours won't be a big deal.”

Zayn smiled, “well, what keeps you up then?”

“That's my question.” Harry glanced at him.

He smiled again with a slight shrug, “I just can’t sleep, for some reasons, I don’t know why.” He turned around, reclining his waist against the railing, “Whenever I have problem falling asleep, I always need to puff a cigar. Bad habit, I know. But I couldn’t change it.”

“Does it work?”

“More or less.” Zayn answered hazily, “And what about you? You didn’t come to the dinner, _again_.”

“Well, you didn’t come to the herb garden either.” Harry said leisurely, hiding the disappointment in his voice. Zayn gave him a guilty smile. “Taylor kept me around after the class. She wanted to talk to me.”

“What did you guys talk about?”

Zayn put his cigarette closer, “Nothing special. She’s checking if everything was all right with me, and doing some transition works. You know I have to take her potions class after she…um…leaves.”

Harry didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to ask why Taylor chose to discuss her works with someone who had just arrived for two weeks than her friend who she’d known for over three years. Zayn saw him stay mute, so he asked again, “So why were you absent? Did Louis disturb you?”

“No. If he really is watching me, he must think my life is pretty boring.” Harry sighed with a warped smile, “I was planning to join you guys, but I fell asleep after taking a shower.” He pressed his fringe immediately, thinking how ridiculous he possibly looked like now. “So I just woke up and couldn’t sleep again.”

Zayn wasn’t fully convinced, “You look peaky.”

“It’s just the moonlight. You think too much.”

“Really?”

Harry lowered his head, giving in. “Okay. It’s just the nightmares. They can be really provoking.”

“Those prophetic dreams?”

“Yeah.”

“It occurs every night?”

“Nearly. It becomes more frequent recently.” Harry stared at the night sky, trying to figure out how many star sign he still remembered. “But I’m fine. I’m quite used to it. It was uncomfortable at first, but when you know it’s gonna happen no matter what…you’ll start to feel numb.”

Zayn paused for a second, “what was it all about?”

“I-I don’t wanna talk about it.”

A hush fell between them. In the long silence, Harry could only hear his own heartbeats and Zayn’s deep breathing. The breeze mitigated, caressing his cheeks smoothly. But the night was still getting colder. Harry wrapped himself with his arms, looking down at the foot of the hill. He noticed that Zayn was watching him. His cigarette had burnt out.

“You should go back to sleep.” Harry mumbled, “I want to stay for a while. It’s okay.”

“It’s cold here.” Zayn replied lightly, “You wanna come inside with me? I may know how to make you sleep well.”

Harry hesitated, clenching his fingers around the pole. “Um...”

“Waliyha – my younger sister, she used to suffer from insomnia. At that time my dad would make some chamomile tea for her before she went to sleep. It was pretty efficient.” Zayn explained, grinning at him when Harry was still unsure about his invitation, “Insomnia could stress you out, you really need some good rest. C’mon, I’m not gonna do anything to you.” He winked at Harry with a smirk. Harry’s cheeks burnt, compromising. “Fine.”

 

Zayn’s room was in a bizarre harmony combining a college boy’s dormitory with an old paranoiac witch’s single room. The walls were covered with celebrities’ posters such as Beyoncé, Drake, Frank Ocean and some singers Harry couldn’t name. Under the Rihanna poster, it was a simple bed with a plain duvet cover. Piles of witchcraft books were scattered above the mattress, along with a laptop charging from a socket next to an antique celestial globe. Zayn’s jackets were hung on the half-opened door of the wardrobe. Inside the wardrobe, there were a couple of medieval cases in the corner. The surfaces were carved into delicate lines, with a small wooden statue shaped as an owl standing on the top of it.

“My room is a mess.” Zayn mumbled with a blush on his face, turning around to make the tea. Harry sat down on a clean space of the bed, looking up at the whole room again. He wasn’t surprised when he noticed there was no mirror in Zayn’s room.

The fragrance of herbal tea had spread inside the small room. Harry turned his face away, pretending he didn’t notice how Zayn boiled the water in less than thirty seconds. And then his attention was caught by the Minions toys on the table that were dressed in small capes and pointed hat. Harry started giggling when Zayn handed him the cup.

“Uh…my sister Safaa gave me those before I left. You know…she’s only fourteen.” Zayn clarified in a flurry when he followed Harry’s sight, coughing pretentiously.

“They are cute.” Harry saved him, sipping the tea with a smile. The warmness brought alleviation immediately.

“Drink it up. You’ll feel better.”

Harry followed, feeling like all his tense nerves had relieved. He breathed tranquilly, blinking his eyes at Zayn who’s collecting the items above the covers. Tiredness returned to his body as his temperature heated up.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” Harry rubbed his eyes, putting the cup on the cabinet next to the bed. “I’m starting to suspect if you put drugs in my tea.”

Zayn laughed and joked, “You right, I’m drugging you so I can steal your cat while you’re unconscious.” He snapped his fingers and had the rest of the room clean itself, and then approached to the bed as Harry pouted his mouth with his drowsy eyes.

“You should lie down.” Zayn whispered softly, brushing Harry’s hair aside with two fingers and pressed him down. Harry didn’t resist his touching, resting his head on the pillow with his heart racing. He arranged his curls himself to cover the redness on his face, “Zayn, I don’t understand why you’re being nice to me.”

“Should I not?”

“I mean,” Harry stared at the corner of the pillow, “I’ve been a menace to you since the very beginning. I was rude to you, shouting at you and…” His voice faded. Zayn was silent, but Harry didn’t have the courage to look up.

After a few seconds, Zayn finally replied. But he didn’t answer to Harry’s question. “I wanna show you something.”

Harry adjusted his neck to look at Zayn, who’s unbuttoning his collar.

“What –”

Zayn stopped his action and took a necklace out of his shirt. At the end of the tie, it was a tiny glass bottle with silver liquid inside. “Do you know what it is?” He asked with a sedate voice.

“Oh…” Harry lied back awkwardly, “No, I don’t know.”

Zayn smiled mystically, rattling the tiny bottle. “If I say this is a potion made from the philosopher’s stone, would you believe that?”

“What?!” Harry struggled to sit up, but Zayn pushed him down again.

“One of my mentors gave me this.” Zayn explained calmly, “He’s a close friend to my father. I can’t tell you his name, but he’s an incognito alchemist whose family has been doing this research for centuries. And they found the study of Paracelsus, who, in fact, had discovered the philosopher’s stone.”

Not giving a chance for Harry to query, he continued. “However, Paracelsus knew that the secret shouldn’t be revealed to the world. He decocted a small pot of potion with the stone, and then destroyed the stone itself. The potion and his document were hidden somewhere in the Middle East. My mentor’s family followed the clues he left and found the place.”

“And…” Harry stuttered, “And he gave that to you?”

“This small bottle has the power to change the world. And I’m not going to use it.” Zayn replied, putting the necklace back. “He gave me this in hope of passing on the legacy, like a warranty to my ability. I made a promise – more like a curse – to myself. If I ever use this potion, I will never be able to practice witchcraft. _Forever_.”

Harry widened his eyes, grabbing Zayn’s hand with a weak voice, “Why are you telling me this…?”

“Because I want you to know that…even when you don’t believe in something, it doesn’t necessarily means it doesn’t exist.” Zayn gave him a comforting smile, leaning in to kiss on his forehead. “Just sleep.”

Harry wanted to say something. But his eyelids fell as Zayn drew his hand away.

 

The following week had been humid and drizzling, covering the entire hill under the grey sky. It was more difficult for the coven to track the unicorns’ conditions, therefore the other witches still had to follow their traces into the woods under the heavy rain. The bad weather had been perturbing everyone in the coven, especially for Harry. Just like what Zayn said, he wouldn’t be very helpful around the unicorns. And the constant rain had deprived his opportunity to stay in the herb garden for the entire afternoon. The house was mostly empty, except for the classrooms that he couldn’t step into. And that brought Harry down to a lower level.

Kalisha and some witches had decided to hold a banquet for Taylor. They didn’t want the atmosphere to be too distressing. Instead, it would be a cordial event with gracious ceremonies. The witches would greet Taylor and proffered their blessing. All the witches from the nearby neighbourhood would present themselves to show their regards as well.

Harry didn’t like the ambiance in the coven right now. Everything seemed treacherous to him, but he couldn’t read from the dense fog around. His nightmares happened more and more frequently, but he still didn’t know the meaning behind the swords that almost slashed his throat open every night.

On the other hand, unlike Harry, Zayn was always busy. Each of the witches in the coven only had one or two class every week, but Zayn needed to participate every single class with the students. Harry doubted if that was necessary, or they just wanted to keep him aside. Sometimes Harry would peek through the door, wondering if Zayn was on the balcony with his cigarette again. And then he would bury himself under the covers as he thought about how ridiculous that was.

The banquet for Taylor was held on the full-moon day of the month. Harry was trying to offer his help the day before the event was held. Not to his surprise, he was soon becoming the spared one after the decoration in the hall was done. Kalisha suggested him to assist the kitchen work, but the other girls claimed the kitchen was full already.

So Harry decided to spend his time in the grand library alone, surrounding himself with paper and inks. In the silence he could only hear the raindrops pattering on the windows, and his fingers flipping the pages. He held his chin on one side, fighting against the drowsiness as the time went by. His eyes almost closed that he didn’t even notice someone else had entered the room and stood behind him.

“ ‘ _Alchemy: Through the History_ ’? Really? Can I assume that’s my impact?”

Harry jumped from his seat and dropped the heavy book as the voice appeared by his ear all of sudden. “What are you doing here?” Harry squealed, arranging himself while Zayn grinned and put a finger in front of Harry’s lips. “You shall be quiet in the library.” He smirked, “I’ve been looking for you.”

Harry raised his eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“Taylor wants to talk to you. She’s in her office.”

“Oh.” Harry mumbled, picking up the book on the floor, “what does she need me for?”

Harry couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words. Taylor didn’t show much concern to him after the night he told her about his dream. He thought she would at least check on his condition and the various nightmares he’d experienced, but it didn’t happen. Harry really didn’t want to let negative thoughts occupy his mind at this moment. Zayn shrugged as the answer to his question, so Harry nodded at him. He wanted to ask what Zayn had done for the day, but Zayn was already waving at him and walking out of the door.

Taylor’s office wasn’t too far away from the library. She was sitting by the window as Harry knocked the door and walked in. He smelled a pleasant fragrance in the room, but he couldn’t tell what kind of plant it was.

“White musk, do you like it?” Taylor adjusted the aromatic lamp on her desk, “Have a sit, Harry.”

Harry managed a smile, pulling the chair across Taylor’s desk. “What do you need to tell me, Taylor?”

Taylor didn’t answer him immediately. She’s pouring more hot water into her porcelain kettle. Harry waited patiently, watching her put a lemon slice into the cup. “It’s just a simple question, dear. Tea?”

“Thanks.” Harry replied, but didn’t touch the tea plate.

“Harry, you know I’ve always valued your opinions.” Taylor said sweetly, “I know the other ladies...they have their own point of views, that’s something I can hardly change. But as a leader, I’m obligate to balance the different voice in the coven…”

“What are you going ask?”

Taylor didn’t look at him, putting a sugar cube into her tea. “What do you think about Zayn Malik?”

Harry’s tongue tied, “Wh-what?”

“Mr. Malik has been widely welcomed by the other members of the coven, but I think we can’t deny that there’s some obvious bad blood between two of you. And I wonder why.” Taylor tilt her head to look at him, her typical smile was still on her face.

“We’ve solved the problem ourselves.” Harry answered flatly, “We did have some minor conflicts before, but now we’re good… So it shouldn’t worry you.”

“Really?” Taylor grinned again but didn’t move a bit, “You still haven’t told me what you think about him though.”

“I – why does that matter?”

He clenched his knees, trying to keep his expression calm as he threw the question back. Taylor took a sip of her tea, “Just like I stated before, Harry. I need to hear the voice of every member individually. Mr. Malik will soon fill my blank in the coven, I have to decide if he’s the suitable one.”

“Then did you… May I ask if you have consulted the other witches?” Harry asked again, keeping the politeness in his voice.

“Not yet.” Taylor crossed her fingers on her lap. “You are a special one to me, Harry, you understand that. It’s just a simple question, or you find it difficult for you to answer?”

“No.” Harry denied, voice weakened. “Well… Zayn is very friendly to me…and the others, for sure. He has enlightened me with a lot of information and knowledge that I’ve never dabbled myself in. He’s very patient and considerable with the students too. They really like him.”

“And?”

“And?” Harry reiterated her question, “That’s all I can say.”

“You don’t have anything else to add?”

“I don’t know what you expect to hear from me, Taylor.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes, and then put on her smile once again. “It’s fine. That’s enough for me to know. Before you go, can I ask you one last question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think Zayn Malik is qualified for the role of leader?”

The sudden question confused Harry more than the last one did. “I’m sorry?”

“To my observation, Mr. Malik possessed all the features to be a perfect leader for our coven.” Taylor explained mildly, “I think you’ve just confirmed that to me. You said that he’s very nice to all the witches – including you, even when you had some arguments with him. And the children like him too. He’s also very knowledgeable about exotic magic, which is what we’re lack of ideas for. Does that not persuade you?”

“He’s only been here for less than a month.” Harry contended, “Why don’t you choose Kalisha? She’s contributed a lot to the coven. Is she not in your consideration?”

“Are you asking for her, or are you insinuating something else?”

“I won’t be that stupid, begging you to make _me_ the leader. I know I was the last person to be added on your list.” Harry stood up abruptly, “Talk about insinuating, you know what is strange? I just had the dream of the Ten of Swords, and all of sudden Zayn was brought here? And now he’s going to be our future leader? It’s almost like, s _omeone_ has planned this all already?”

“Sit down, Harry.” Taylor ordered, “and please don’t misinterpret my words.”

Harry ignored her, “Have you been discussing with Zayn? Wait, maybe you’ve already declared that to the entire coven. And I was the last to be informed?”

“That’s not true, Harry.” Her voice was bland but also strict, “Please sit down. Your tea is cold.”

“You can keep it to yourself.” Harry said ruthlessly, turning around without giving her another look.

 

Harry didn’t want to go back to the library, nor seeing anyone in the coven. He went back to his room immediately, slamming his door and cringing at the corner. He wrapped his hands around his shoulders, staring at his knees as he rethought about his anger toward Taylor. In fact, he didn’t even know why he was angry. He couldn’t come up with a reason to convince Taylor – nor himself – that Zayn was an inappropriate choice. And Harry wasn’t even expecting himself to succeed Taylor’s position. His acrimony was childish and impertinent.

He stood up, trying to get some water to cool himself down, but the small flower on his desk made him withdraw his hand. The half blue rose was still blossoming delicately under the dim lights, as if it wasn’t aware that its life should had withered a couple weeks ago. Harry took a deep breath, looking away before he could fill himself with one more pessimistic thought.

“Yo, crybaby seems pretty depressed today?”

Harry nearly tripped himself when he heard the voice behind him. He turned around, pressing the small mirror on his desk down. Louis’ muffled voice came underneath. “Why must you and Zayn be so mean to me? I haven’t even said something!”

Louis continued to complain. Harry ignored him; he didn’t need to summon a devil himself to learn the consequence of talking to one. Harry threw a piece of cloth onto the mirror to cover Louis’ noise, but just when he turned around, Louis was in the floor mirror in front of me.

“C’mon, I’m so bored. Zayn has become an expert in running away from mirrors. How about we sit down and have a talk?” Louis giggled, grinning like the Cheshire cat, “You look really down today, crybaby. Wait, actually it’s been a while. Am I gonna pretend I wasn’t watching you all these days? Probably not. What makes you become a little grumpy cat?”

“Don’t you have anywhere else to go?” Harry couldn’t help but retorted. Louis laughed and slit his eyes. “Well I’m trapped in this mirror so I don’t really have many choices. But what about you? Are you trapped in this small, cramped room as well?”

“It’s raining outside.”

Louis laughed again, “Really, that’s the best excuse you can think of?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Harry raised his voice, irritated. Louis wriggled his eyebrow and smiled, “Your soul, darling, of course.”

“And you really think I will give it to you, as if you’re just borrowing a penny?”

“Oh no, dear, your soul is much more valuable than that.” Louis pulled his face closer. Harry knew Louis couldn’t pass the glass, but he still stepped backward subconsciously. “Magic is a fair trade. Yes, crybaby, even dark magic is the same. Do you know how many things you can buy with that fragile soul inside your body?”

“I won’t make any deal with you.”

“Or will you?” Louis whispered softly, “You’ve always wanted to be powerful, am I wrong? Your grandma and your mother, they are such outstanding witches. Your sister was born a genius of witchcraft. And you? Not so impressive. Yeah right, your fortune-telling skill might as well show up sometimes. But you know that – it is never helpful, is it?”

Harry stuttered, couldn’t find a word to reply. “I –”

“Taylor, is that her name? Hmm, she hasn’t been really nice to you, I guess? She’s your one and only friend here…or, perhaps the feeling isn’t mutual?” Louis kept asking, grinning deeper and deeper, “But the kids like you, don’t they? That’s quite comforting. But honey, does that really make you feel better? In a few years, every single one of them is going to be a better witch than you… Oh no, I rephrase. _They already are_.”

“What do you want exactly?” Harry asked again, voice dried out. “Why do you want my soul so badly?”

“Well, what’s the point to keep something that you don’t even know the value?” Louis tilted his head, pretending to be confused by Harry’s question, “Tell me anything good you’ve been doing with it, maybe I will change my mind? Let me think, planting those herbs that you can’t even remember the names? Feeding your cat twice a day? Cleaning the dust on your shelf because those books won’t teach you any trick? Wearing black shirts and your tacky boots to make you feel like a real witch? What else, crybaby? What’s some nice thing I can find on your daily to-do list?”

Harry gasped, pushing the mirror off and broke it into pieces. But Louis’ words still came through the fragments on the floor. “Seven years of bad luck, sweetie! As if you don’t have enough.” His voice echoed in the room, “What do you even expect to do? Running from the reality? Like what you did for the past twenty years?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

“I can help you, and it doesn’t have to hurt anybody. It’s so simple and easy…” Louis’ voice was so close, as if he was mumbling right next to Harry’s ears, “As I mentioned before, it will be a fair trade. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Just shut up.” Harry gasped exhaustedly. He should’ve listened to Zayn.

“Really? You’re still thinking about _Zayn_? Our sweet, precious Zayn?” Louis laughed exaggeratingly, “Have you ever wondered why Zayn never agrees to give anyone’s soul to me? Let me tell you why: first, he’s a fucking idiot, a complete idiot who’s trying his best to protect everyone from me – even you, huh. He’s so generous that sometimes drives me crazy. Second, you’ve probably already guessed that: he’s too powerful to need my help.”

Harry covered his ears with his hands, catching his breath hastily. But that didn’t stop Louis from needling his words into Harry’s skin. “It will be really naïve of you if you truly think that Zayn…what, cares about you? Fancies you? My dear, that’s what he does with everyone. Okay, maybe you’re a bit special. I mean, never in his life has he met someone weaker than you.”

“Stop it!”

“And you were even trying to argue with him. That was so…embarrassing, sweetie. I must say.” Louis continued with a tender voice, “and you soon realised being enemies with him wasn't a brilliant idea, aye? So then you tried to befriend him, and felt disappointed when he didn't respond to your eagerness?”

“That's not true!” Harry yelled, ducking his head and closing his eyes.

Louis' laughter kept pouring down like the heavy rain outside. Harry felt like he's almost drowning. “You can keep cowering there and begging me to stop, but you know everything I said is realer than the air you're breathing in, crybaby.”

“No.” Harry wept, “No! No! No!”

“I can make you a much more powerful than your granny, that Taylor chick, and Zayn, of course. Haven't you been wishing him to disappear? Well, I like Zayn. But if you ask, that would work too.”

“I don't!” Harry cried out, “Leave me alone!”

“You can't run away from it.” Louis sneered, “You can keep trying, honey. But eventually you will realise that there is only one choice for you.”

“Stop talking!” Harry pled, feeling dizzy. He reached out his arms to balance himself on the floor. Sweats came down from his temples to his necklines as his sight got bleary. Louis' voice became vague. “Stop it.” Harry panted, and then he saw darkness.

 

Darkness.

Darkness.

Darkness.

 

And the endless silence from the deepest side of the core.

 

The familiar scene had been living in his head day after day. Harry blinked his eyes; he knew exactly what it was going to happen. He stepped forward, sweeping his hand against the wall, feeling the fabric with his fingertips. He was in the hall again.

Harry attempted another step, but he didn't see the blood that was supposed to be around his bare feet. As he raised his head attentively, there was no dead body lying in front of him. He moved again, tiptoeing on the cold floor, filling his lungs with the clammy air.

And then the scene changed. The cold floor became a dark, infinite corridor. Harry turned around immediately, but there wasn't a sword pointing at him.

So he kept walking. The eerie peace didn't make him feel any better. He was waiting for a knife to cut his chest open so he could finally return to his bed again. Harry couldn't manage to wake himself up, and the coldness around his neck made him wonder if he would ever wake up.

He looked up when he felt wind brushing through his shoulders. Thick and warped branches covered the dark sky and the long corridor had disappeared. Now he's inside the woods, which Harry couldn't identify. He couldn't see where the moonlight came down. And the entire woods were in a hush that made him feel like he's the only alive creature around.

Harry didn't know where he's going to, and how big the woods were, but he had to keep himself moving. For a moment he was thinking about climbing up the trees, but he could tell that was a ridiculous idea because he couldn't see the top of these trees.

The air got colder as he walked deeper into the woods. Harry wasn't sure how long he had been walking, but everything seemed the same around him that he even doubted if he was actually walking. He tried to tell directions with the gloomy light, but it wasn't helpful at all. Another breeze passed by as he took a deep gulp. And then he heard something behind him. Harry turned around slowly, almost vomiting his heart out.

A faceless man was standing there, with those swords that entangled his mind every night.

“Fuck.”

Harry cried but didn’t really make a sound. He started running toward the endless copses, even though there wasn’t any hope waiting between the twigs. The frosty solid and the sharp roots were scratching his feet, and the leaves were falling onto his face that he couldn’t even see the way. He legs weakened, and his knees constantly fell onto the ground. Harry kept gulping; his heart started racing when he saw a hazy light in a distance. He stood up again, pushing away the branches and ran toward the light. There wasn’t even a time for him to look back.

However, his hope died out when he finally escaped from the woods. At the end of the road it was a steep cliff, and there was no other way for him to go. His body tumbled to the ground as he realised he had lost all his strength and luck. Harry gasped hopelessly. All his messy mind could tell him was to wait for the swords to penetrate his trembling body. And then he would open his eyes again, sobbing alone in his room like a baby, because that’s the only thing he could do.

The treads were getting closer. Harry raised his head once again, and then a flashing light caught his attention. He struggled to crawl to the edge of the cliff, and his brain started to function when he saw the sparkling surface underneath. There was something reflecting the moonlight: a river, a lake, or a borderless ocean, it was too dark for him to recognise. But if he must die in his dream, at least he wanted to die less painfully.

_Jump._ The small voice in his mind returned.

“What if there’s actually nothing down there?” Harry asked silently.

_Just make a little step, and everything would be normal._ The voice whispered.

“What if it won’t?”

_You would figure it out after you jump. What are you waiting for?_

“What it I won’t wake up?”

_Then don’t. Why do you even want to wake up? It’s so frustrating out there. Keep sleeping._

“It will be okay?”

_Just a simple jump and it’s all over._

_And you can sleep forever, darling. Nothing will hurt you again._

“HARRY!”

 

He was pulled back by an unknown strength all of sudden. Harry didn’t fall onto the solid ground, but someone else’s chest. He breathed rapidly as he felt the warmth surrounding him gradually, blinking his eyes to bring his vision back to clarity. His heart was numb and cold when he realised that he wasn’t at the edge of the cliff, but the balcony outside his room.

“Harry? Harry!” Zayn’s holler became clearer and clearer, drifting closer from the opposite side of the world. “What are you doing on the railing? You’re scaring me to death. Can you hear me? God damn, please answer me, Harry!”

Harry turned his head to look at Zayn, widening his eyes at Zayn’s colourless lips. “I…I…”

“What happened?” Zayn asked again, holding Harry’s chin with his fingers. Harry had never seen him being this terrified and outraged. “Was it Louis? Did he talk to you? What has he done to you?”

Harry couldn’t make a sound; he’s only staring at Zayn with his mouth half-opened and body shivering.

“It’s fine now.” Zayn whispered to him with a raspy voice, pulling Harry into his arms. He was all shaking like Harry did. “You’re safe now.” He mumbled, voice cracking like he was actually comforting himself. “You need to take a rest, seriously. Can you stand up? You wanna grab a cup of tea?”

He guided Harry up from the floor. Harry’s arms were still trembling.

“Come to my room. That fucking devil won’t be around.”

He put Harry down on his bed, turning around to get some hot water. Harry’s breath had eased, but fatigue crawled through his body that almost made him faint. Zayn faced at him again; his hands froze as panic darkened his eyes. Harry tilted his head, realising there was a teardrop falling down his cheek.

“Harry?” Zayn put down the cup, climbing onto the bed and sat in front of him. Harry lifted one hand to wipe the tear away, but Zayn stopped him. “It’s okay. Just let them coming out. It will make you feel much better.”

“It doesn’t.” Harry blurted out. Another tear fell onto his knee. Zayn cuddled him to his chest, “You’re frightened, Harry. Clear your mind and have a good sleep. I will be here.”

“No – Zayn, you don’t understand.” Harry cried out, trying to push Zayn’s shoulders away. “I am so miserable and pathetic. I don’t even know what I’m trying to do here. I can’t save anyone. I can’t save my best friend. I can’t save the coven and I can’t even save myself.”

“Don’t listen to whatever that rat told you!” Zayn grabbed Harry’s forearms, keeping him in front of his face. “He’s just trying to make you surrender your soul with all these fucking lies. How can you believe the words coming out from a devil’s mouth?”

“Because they are the truth!” Harry exclaimed, “It’s not just about Louis and his tricks! It’s about everything! Everything I’ve been through all these years… I’ve seen the clues but I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Zayn let out an exhausted sigh, “Admit what?”

“Admit that I’m useless! I’m always the extra one wherever I am!” Harry yelled as tears pouring down his face, “I’ve tried all my efforts but it just won’t work. There isn’t even anything I can do here. It’s only a few weeks since you arrived but you’ve already won everything I’ve ever wanted. Friendship, respect and power. My mother always told me that everyone was born for a reason, and maybe mine is to show the world how great you are.”

“No!” Zayn leaned closer desperately, “Listen, Harry. You’re a powerful witch because you survive all these years without the help of witchcraft. You put twice or more efforts than any other witch would require but you never give up. You’re still thinking about how to help people around you when you feel like unarmed and powerless. You remember every kid’s name and each of their stories, making them feel important and valuable. You’re providing them the supports that you deserved in your childhood, after being treated unfairly by your grandmother and all these people who don’t understand the real you. You really think that’s something a useless witch can achieve?”

“That’s not even my achievement!” Harry yelled, “I can be replaced so easily. That’s probably what Taylor has been planning for a while. Maybe she has always wanted to replace me with you.”

“What are you talking about?”

Harry choked on his sob, “She wants you to be the new leader. You’ve just been here for less than a month, how is it possible? She probably heard about you from Caroline. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wants to kick me out.”

“That makes no sense, Harry!” Zayn protested, “She’s going to…leave this world very soon. And she doesn’t even know when. That’s why she might be a bit desperate. But that has nothing to do with you!”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I am replaceable.”

“You’re _not_ replaceable!”

“To whom?” Harry cried, “There’s nobody in this world that –”

But Harry couldn’t finish his sentence.

He forgot how to breathe when he felt Zayn’s lips pressing onto his. Silence occupied the entire room, sprawling to his fingertips that made him slowly loose his hands around Zayn’s shoulders. They were so close that Harry could count Zayn’s eyelashes and his pulses against Harry’s nape. The other hand of Zayn’s was around Harry’s waist, pulling him closer even though Harry wasn’t trying to run away. Harry counted everything but he forgot to count how much time had passed. Maybe it wasn’t passing at all. Maybe Harry didn’t want it to pass.

Harry’s brain was blank; he didn’t know what he could do except for closing his eyes, following Zayn’s tongue as he pushed deeper. For a moment Zayn was releasing the heat between them, but Harry grabbed his jaw and whispered to his lips, “Touch me.”

Zayn hesitated. So Harry sat up and wrapped his arms around him. “Please.”

He felt Zayn’s palms rubbing against his lap and underneath his shirt while he moved forward to peck Zayn on his forehead and cheeks. He groaned a bit when Zayn moved his hands to Harry’s belly and chest, caressing his skin softly. Harry lowered his head, kissing down along Zayn’s necklines to his collarbones. Zayn kept moving his hands upward, ripping off Harry’s buttons from inside his shirt. Harry groaned again, pressing his body against Zayn.

“Don’t stop, please.” Harry mumbled when Zayn withdrew his hands. Zayn kissed him back, straightening himself and surrounding his waist with Harry’s legs. Then he pressed Harry down to the mattress, holding the headboard with his hands and looked down at Harry’s bare skin. Harry panted, reaching out his arm to invite Zayn. So Zayn responded with his lips, scanning Harry’s upper body with his tongue. Harry let out a whimper as Zayn went lower to his belly button and unbuckled his jeans. His whole body shivered when Zayn’s fingers touched the zip. He seized the corners of the pillow as Zayn peeled both his jeans and the pants down, wondering how much he’s going to suffer if he’s already struggling.

“Zayn,” Harry attempted to call his name, but Zayn didn’t answer and kept pressing his kiss on Harry’s skin. Harry gasped and wriggled his body, crying out Zayn’s name again when he felt the bite on his inner thigh. He’s already hard before Zayn sealed him with his lips.

Harry curved his back and gulped when Zayn started to fondle him inside his mouth. He closed his eyes and thrusting along with Zayn’s speed. Zayn adjusted his position with his elbow, taking more from Harry as he pressed his palms against Harry’s hips. Harry covered his face with one hand, peeping at Zayn’s eyes between his fingers. Zayn put him out for a second, spitting on the top and continuing. Harry bit his lower lip tightly, trying to cease the constant moan from slipping out of his mouth. But he couldn’t help but exhale out loud when he realised Zayn wasn’t only focusing on the sucking.

“Fuck.” Harry cried as Zayn inserted another finger in. He could see a slight smirk at the corner of Zayn’s mouth as he kept on with both side, curling his fingers inside Harry. His shoulders clenched as Zayn teased him with a few more groping. Harry’s eyes started to water when he knew he couldn’t last for too long.

Harry was so close, close enough that he almost gave in. But neither Zayn and or him wanted to finish it in a hurry. Zayn pumped his cheeks as Harry lowered his hand to slow him down. Harry gripped his knuckle with his teeth, trying to hold on for a little longer. But Zayn went further with more licking and stroking, sinking his fingers in even deeper and that was enough to make Harry pass out. So Harry was at his limit, letting out a long exhaling as he jerked his body and came inside Zayn’s mouth.

Zayn didn’t swallow it. He spat on Harry again, moistening his entrance with the cum and his fingers. Harry felt breathless, gasping for the air and watching Zayn lifting one of his legs up. Zayn kissed his knee gently, soothing Harry from the ache between his thighs. Harry moaned to Zayn’s movement, trying to peek at Zayn with his misty eyes. He couldn’t see Zayn’s face clearly, but he knew that Zayn was looking at him too.

Eventually Zayn removed his fingers out, resting Harry’s leg on his shoulder. He shifted his body to strip off his own trousers, pulling Harry’s waist to bring him closer to his crotch. His fingers tangled Harry’s long hair, forcing Harry to sit up and face at him. And then he reached another hand under Harry’s chin, “Spit on it.”

Harry’s face flushed when he followed Zayn’s words. But Zayn wasn’t satisfied with it. So he stuck his fingers into Harry’s mouth as he locked his thumb under Harry’s jaw. Harry sucked his fingers tamely, gazing at Zayn’s eyes while licking his entire palm. He made a slurp reluctantly when Zayn pulled his hand back. Zayn gave him a kiss on his knee again as a reward, and then narrowed his eyes at Harry as he wrapped his cock with Harry’s saliva. Harry grunted while watching. He’s hard again.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” Harry puffed, voice cracked. “Yes, please.”

So Zayn shoved in as they both let out a groan. Harry threw his head back with a series of moaning while Zayn thrust himself, trying to lower the pain for Harry. But Harry still kept exhaling intermittently, clutching the covers to support his body, even though his palms had become too greasy for him to hold steadily.

“Fuck, Harry.” Zayn grunted, “You’re so tight.”

Harry wanted to respond to him, but only managed to make some vague noises. His hands almost slipped when Zayn tugged inside him again. “Zayn,” Harry panted, groaning from the sore mixing with sensual pleasure. Zayn’s skin slapped against his, and the warmth was going to burn him inside and out. He wanted to tilt his chin to look at Zayn, but he ended up tumbling down on the messy mattress. “Zayn, Zayn, Zayn.”

Zayn pushed in deeper and faster that Harry could hardly hear his panting and gasping. He wanted him to keep touching him, traveling his fingers everywhere upon his body. Harry breathed heavily, forcing himself not to faint before the orgasm hit. Then he heard Zayn groan out loud, releasing inside as Harry almost choked on his gulp. Harry was vertiginous, but he knew that he already came when he noticed how wet his thighs were. He opened his eyes tiredly. Zayn was leaning in for a kiss.

Harry didn’t remember what he was going to say. So they kissed and kissed and kissed, until he finally went unconscious.


	5. Chapter Four

It was six in the morning when Harry opened his eyes again. Zayn’s arm was around his waist, and the heat of his breath was puffing behind his nape. Harry lifted his hand up in the slowest speed, moving his hips away from Zayn’s embrace. He turned around to look at Zayn’s serene face, leaving a delicate kiss on his cheekbone. Then he put on his clothes scattered around the bed, pulling the door opened soundlessly.

Harry returned to his room and nearly stepped on the broken glasses on the floor. Molly was not in the room. He sighed slightly, looking around for any tool that could collect the pieces. He almost broke the water glass on his desk as well when he heard the fragments on the floor started talking.

“Having quite a hard time, crybaby?”

Harry was two seconds away from treading the pieces with his own feet, “Why the fuck are you still here?”

Louis’ collapsed figure flashed in the mirror, “Just showing my concern, how had your night been?”

“Showing your concern?” Harry raged, yelling at the pieces, “You were trying to murder me! So now you’re here to congratulate me for not being killed by you?”

“Wait, what?” Louis’ voice was full of confusion, “Seriously? Is this how you treat people who tried to save your fucking life? What’s wrong with kids this generation?”

Harry changed his tone, baffled. “What are you talking about?”

“What are _you_ talking about, you ungrateful little piece of shit?” Louis protested fiercely inside the small glasses, “If there wasn’t me rattling the windows in Zayn’s room, you would be lying as a sludge in front of the house now! And you’re accusing me for murdering you? Even a dead troll is smarter than you!”

Harry stammered, widening his eyes. “But you…those things you said last night…”

“Because you are a stubborn prat that’s so fucking hard to persuade!” Louis exhaled. Harry couldn’t see his completed face, but he could tell that Louis was probably slamming his forehead. “You should just give me your soul and everything would be easier.”

“But Zayn said –”

“Is stupidity a virus? He’s probably infected by you.” Louis sneered, “Why on earth do I need to kill you? Who’s gonna hand me your soul after you die? And I would break at least twenty laws if I deadass murdered you!”

“There are laws in the hell?”

“We follow more laws than you stupid human beings do, because you don’t even use your brains.” Louis rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe Zayn has become as stupid as you. What did you even talk about last night? Did he – wait…” He swelled his last note, “Holy shit, you guys fucked?”

Harry’s face flushed with redness, “How did – that’s none of your business!” He changed he topic in a hurry, “If that wasn’t you, then who –”

“What’s his kink? Did you guys try anything spicy?” Louis asked excitedly, “Did he eat your ass? I’ve always known he’s an ass eater. Even though you got a flat one.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Harry hollered, “Can’t you be serious for a moment? What exactly happened to me last night? What do you know about it?”

“Slow down, crybaby. How do you expect me to answer your question if you don’t answer mine?” He winked at Harry through the broken chip, “Come on, did he eat your ass?”

“He didn’t.” Harry mumbled with his cheeks burning, “What the fuck do you know?”

Louis let out a long, disappointed groan, “What a pity. I guess he’s not really into flat ass.”

“ _What the fuck do you know?_ ” Harry repeated the question, gnashing.

“The answer costs one human soul, would you like to pay it?” Louis chanted.

“You can go to hell.”

“That’s where I came from, darling.” Louis chuckled brightly, “Since we couldn’t make a deal, and you can’t figure the answer out yourself, I guess all you can do is tie yourself up in bed every night. I bet Zayn would love this idea.”

“Fuck off!”

Harry cursed. But Louis had already gone, leaving Harry kneeling alone beside the fragments with his eyes widening in bewilderment.

 

The banquet for Taylor would be started in the evening, but the coven had been in a bustle since the morning. Harry was assigned to take care of the flowers for decoration, which made him quite relieved because he wasn’t well prepared to face Zayn at the moment.

He tried to keep himself busy to get rid of the chaos in his mind, focusing on where to put the flower baskets instead of the nightmare that almost took his life away. Harry stepped on his toes to adjust the leaves on the top of the pillars, feeling dizzy as the memories of the cliff pouring back to his head. He held his hands into fists, closing his eyes and counting to ten in hope of distracting his brain. But all he saw in the darkness was Zayn’s face leaning closer; his eyelashes, his lips, his fingers around Harry’s hips and his warmth inside his body.

When he opened his eyes, the laurel leaves were all scattering around his feet. Beatrice was giving him a side eye.

Harry only saw Zayn once as he walked down the stairs to help Maia carrying the wine bottles. Zayn was standing in the hall while Kalisha held the guest list next to him and introduced each name to him. Harry couldn’t help but bloom a smile when he noticed Zayn was creasing his eyebrows. He knew it was impossible for Zayn to remember such a long list. Before he could put off the smile, Zayn raised his head all of sudden. Their eyes met in the air and Harry needed to hide his face behind the huge vase. He didn’t need to peek through the flowers to know what Zayn’s expression looked like.

The day passed faster than their plan. The sky was getting darker, and the guests would arrive soon. However, they still hadn’t finished platting the dining tables in the garden. Kalisha asked Harry to get more tableware from the kitchen, but just when he stepped out of the kitchen, Taylor was waiting at the door for him.

“Hello Harry,” She grinned gracefully, “Can we have a talk?”

“Now?” Harry frowned and raised the forks and knives in his hands, “Kalisha is going to explode. Maybe later?”

“She’ll understand.” She pressed his hands down and made a gesture at the girl who happened to walk by them. “Thank you, Leila. Please hand these to Kalisha in the garden.” And then she turned at Harry again, asking him to follow her. But she didn’t go upstairs to her office.

“Where are we heading for?” Harry asked when Taylor led him to a small wooden door at the back of the kitchen. Taylor smiled and pushed the door open. There was a pile of long staircases behind the door, stretching into the darkness. “There was a really nice wine vault down there.” She explained, “Not everyone in the coven knows this secret. Can you keep it for me? There’s no better person than you to share this secret with.”

Harry didn't answer. He wasn't really in the mood to have a drink with Taylor. And he had no idea what she was about to tell him.

Taylor held a fireball above her palm as they walked down the stairs. She didn't continue with the conversation. Harry stared at her blonde hair; a strange feeling was capping his whole body. Tonight was the farewell ceremony for his best friend in the coven, but his anger toward her was stronger than condolences. And this thought was pressing against his chest as guiltiness eroded his heart.

When they finally reached the end of the stairs, Harry saw a domed, stone-built room with several shelves all over the walls. The ceiling was twice as tall as him. Three shelves away from where he stood, there was still an arched gate connected to another room. A long, glazed ebony table was in the middle of the vault.

“Château Latour, 1989. The year I was born.” Taylor grinned at him with a bottle in one hands, the other was holding two glasses. “I love its dense aroma especially. It's still young and wild as our souls – I think that's what makes it my favourite. Have a seat.”

Harry pulled one chair and sat down, watching Taylor pouring the liquor into the glasses. He kept silence, waiting for Taylor to bring up the topic.

“You must be wondering what we're doing here for.” Taylor raised her head as she handed Harry his glass.

“Thanks.” Harry mumbled, sniffing the wine hesitantly. “You're not here to teach me about wine tasting, are you?”

Taylor chuckled, “Of course not, Harry. I'm here for something more important.”

Harry wiggled his glass, “Like?”

“I want to apologise to you.” Taylor replied elegantly, “I think we both agree that something went wrong with the conversation last night. It shouldn't have ended up this way.”

She paused for a second, but Harry didn't utter anything. “Harry, I wish I can untie this knot between us before I run out of my time.” She sighed to her glass, “I know I didn't treat you very well for the past weeks, I apologise for that too. You are the one who informed me this significant message, preventing the coven from a disaster, but I still put you away. It's my fault. I can't blame you for losing your temper in front of me.”

Harry kept staring at his wine.

“I was surprised when I learnt that you had some conflicts with Mr. Malik, because I know that's not your style. So from then on I've been trying to figure what's bothering you, and I guess it was partly due to me.” Her voice softened as she took a little sip, “I was trying to distract myself with all these chores and works... I think that's the only way that keeps me going. So I won't be sleepless at night weeping alone in my hands. I am scared, Harry... I am really so scared.”

Harry's heart ached. He realised his selfishness had been deceiving him from considering Taylor's situation. He should have paid more attention.

“If there's no way to change my fate, can I at least be forgiven by my best friend, before every all comes to the end?” She smiled sorrowfully.

“Of course, Taylor.” Harry replied, “Actually, I need to apologise to you as well. I-I should have put myself in your shoes and shown my concern toward you too. I'm sorry for being such a selfish person.”

“Oh, Harry. You're one of the most selfless people I've ever known.” Taylor grinned and raised her glass, “So are we good again?”

“Yes, for sure.” Harry raised his glass too, “This toast is for you, Taylor.”

“And for you too, my dear.”

Harry put the glass closer to his lips and finished all the liquor. He didn't know much about wine, but this one was thicker than he expected. He put down the glass. Taylor was smiling at him again.

“So how have you been recently?” Taylor asked, “Do you sleep well? Did your dreams bother you again?”

“They did. But I'm quite used to it.” Harry answered, voice hoarsening from the wine. “It's just the same old thing. The Ten of Swords, and –”

He couldn't finish his sentence.

Something was choking on his throat as he tried to breathe. But every time he exhaled, his lungs clenched the pain stroke him right inside his body. His eyes fogged as he struggled to tilt his head and look at Taylor, who was still smiling at him.

Harry fell onto the floor with blood coming out between his lips.

 

“Where is Harry?”

Zayn asked as he held the long guest list in the garden. He was looking around but couldn't find Harry's figure in the crowd.

“I don't know.” Kalisha replied impatiently; she's trying to make the balloons stay still in the air. “Instead of worrying about him, you should pay more attention to the names on the list.”

“Well, we still have half an hour to go.” Zayn muttered, rolling up the paper and turned to the girls behind him. “Has anyone seen Harry?”

“Nope.” Heather shook her head as she arranged the plates on the table, “Oh wait, I think Leila mentioned that Taylor was talking to him? Maybe they are in her office.” She paused and glanced at Zayn, “What do you need him for?”

Zayn put the paper on the nearest table, grinning at her gently. “Nothing, I'm just checking. Thanks.”

He looked up to the house and turned to peak at Kalisha, who's busy yelling at a girl in front of her. Then he walked straightforward to the door.

 

Harry was coughing and gasping. His eyes blurred, but he could still see the redness dripping to his palms and the floor, and Taylor's high heels slowly approaching to him.

“I didn't want to do this at first, Harry.” Her voice was above his dizzy head, calm and exquisite. “Maybe it had always been in my mind, but I never planned to accomplish it...until you gave me the idea.”

Something floated down and dropped next to Harry's hand. Harry didn't need to look at it to recognise what it was.

“Ten of Swords.” Taylor stepped on the card as she walked closer, “Remember when we talked about the meaning behind it? You mentioned something important: death. That's right. But you missed another iconic symbol there.”

_Betrayal_.

Harry closed his eyes, uttering something out of his throat.

“Excuse me?” Taylor asked sweetly.

“...why...?”

“Why not? My dear.” Taylor kicked his arm with the tip of her heel, “Except for your ability of prophecy, there's no part of you that is worth to be called a witch. You can't even practice the most basic witchcraft. Can you make a pencil fly? Change its colour or size? That's the common witchcraft test that every parent would make their children try at the age of six or seven. And, lord, you can't even accomplish any of this when you're at your early twenty.”

“You...” Harry coughed another blood, “You try...try to kill me because...I am...useless...?”

“I'm actually doing you a favour, darling.” Taylor grinned, “Your talent is very unique and powerful. But look at you, if you know how to use your talent properly, will you be lying here, struggling for another second to breathe? What a waste with ability like that! I guess you don't know anything about dark magic either, do you? Don't you know that witches can absorb someone's power by taking their lives?”

She stepped on Harry's shoulder to turn his body forward, “Nobody would care about your death. I'm sorry but that's the truth, honey. But if that comforts you: I will tell the coven that you sacrificed your life to keep me alive. At least you can die as a hero. That's my mercy for you.”

Taylor strengthened on her heel that made Harry cry out a bit, “You were supposed to die last night... Maybe my fragrance didn't work on you. You don't know how disappointed and shocked I was when I didn't wake up to your dead body at my door.” She sighed dramatically, “But maybe this way is better. I will return to the banquet later, declaring the bad news to everyone... We will weep some tears at you epic story so you can rest in peace.” She smiled, bending over to tap Harry's cheek. “And then we will keep partying, celebrating for my new life.”

Harry whimpered. He could hardly hear Taylor's voice now.

“Don't worry, the most painful part of the potion has passed. It will soon paralyse your nerves, so when you die you wouldn't even feel it.” Taylor chuckled and picked up the card next to him, “But I'm running out of time. Kalisha must be looking for me now. I have to go back there. I can leave you all alone here but...I'm just a little bit impatient.”

Taylor snapped her fingers. The card soon transformed itself into a real sword.

“I'm not sure how fast the potion works... Maybe your system can still function. So this might be gonna hurt.” She gave Harry an apologetic smile, “But even if it does. It won't last too long.”

Harry watched her raising the sword, and he closed his eyes.

“NO!”

In the dark Harry heard a familiar voice in a distance, and Taylor's sword tingling on the floor. An invisible wave attacked Taylor and pushed her to the opposite side of the vault. Bottles were dropping down from the shelves and broke into pieces. And someone was lifting him up into his arms. Harry opened his eyes defencelessly.

“Harry!”

“Zayn...?” He mumbled. “Why are you...here...”

“I couldn't find you anywhere.” Zayn's voice trembled. Harry wished he could see his face. “I went to Taylor's office, and then I saw the aromatic lamp on her desk... I recognised the fragrance. It was a typical hallucinogen.” He wrapped Harry's arm around his neck, trying to help Harry stand up. “I knew something wasn't right there. And then I saw Molly scratching this door in the kitchen...Harry!”

Harry couldn't even stand on his feet. His body was so fragile, and he didn't have any more strength to support himself.

“Fuck,” Zayn exclaimed, holding Harry closer to hm. “Don't fall asleep, Harry! Please, don't fall asleep.”

“He wouldn't stay for too long, Zayn.” Taylor's voice appeared behind them. Anger was flaming in her eyes. “You are a great witch like me, Zayn. I was never planning to kill you. Your existence would be so important to our coven, but you leave me no choices.”

“Leave you no choices?!” Zayn yelled back; the fury in his voice wasn’t less than Taylor. “That's how you define a great witch? Lying to the entire coven? Killing your best friend?”

“That doesn't matter to me.” Taylor replied coldly.

“He matters to _me!_ ” Zayn shouted as his entire body shivered. Harry vomited another blood at Zayn's chest. He felt like he could just die here.

Taylor wide opened her eyes, and then she sneered. “I tried to confirm this with Harry, and he kept denying it. I thought I didn't need to worry about you...but it looks like you'd rather let this bullshit ruin your bright future.” She raised her arm, “Anyway, all as you wish. Don't call me heartless, I can at least let you two die together...and I will start with him first.”

“Don't you fucking dare!”

Zayn swung his arm, and the shelves on the two sides crumbled and crashed into the way between Taylor and them. He held Harry up and moved him to the comer as Taylor took over the shelves easily, “Really? If this is the most you could do, I won't feel pity killing you anymore.”

Taylor twirled her fingers. The liquor spilling over the floor from the broken bottles started to gather together, shaping itself into a bigger size. The surface began to solidify, revealing the dark scales underneath after the liquor faded away.

“What the –”

The figure was coming to life, twisting its long body, hissing its forked tongue and staring at Zayn with its huge yellow eyes. But the terrifying snake didn't attack him. Instead, it pressed its belly down to the floor, wriggling its body toward Harry's corner.

“No!” Zayn gasped as Harry gaped at the snake in fright. He rushed forward, trying to swipe the giant snake away with the same magic, but it didn't work. Then he placed his hand into the liquor that was still remained on the floor, freezing the liquor and trapped the monster in the middle. The snake shuddered its body furiously, struggling to get out of the frost.

“It can’t last too long.” Zayn sheltered his body above Harry. “We have to get you out of here. What the fuck is that kind of witchcraft?” He panted hastily, but Harry clenched his collar before he turned away. “You…you need to leave me here.” Harry whispered the last voice he had, “Get out of the vault. There are so many witches outside the house now. You cannot defeat her all by yourself. She knows too much about black magic than both of us do.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, I’m not gonna leave you here!” Zayn shouted, trying to build a temporary wall around them with the ice. “She’s gonna kill you!”

“I’m going to die anyway!” Harry grabbed him closer, “I can’t let you die here as well. She wants to kill me more than she wants to kill you. There’s no point to protect me here.”

Zayn hadn’t even answered, the snake had already escaped from the frozen liquor and smacked itself against Zayn’s ice shield. The entire vault was shattering; bottles kept falling down from the shelves and smashing onto Harry’s shoulders. Zayn propped his hands against the wall and covered Harry with his body. “Zayn…!” His voice hoarsened, trying to stay conscious as he looked around with his hazy vision. The fragments of the wine bottles was scattering around them. And then Harry widened his eyes.

“….ayn…”

“Stop telling me to leave! I’m going nowhere!”

“No,” Harry gasped, “The…es…glass…”

“What?” Zayn asked desperately, “What did you say, Harry?”

Harry gulped, pulling Zayn closer. “The pieces of the bottles!” He hollered breathlessly, “The glasses!”

Zayn withdrew his sight to the fragments, and he suddenly understood Harry’s words when he saw his own reflection in the glasses. He pressed Harry to the wall, calling out loud with all the air in his lungs. “Louis! Louis! Are you there?”

The entire room quaked again, but there was no response.

“Louis! You God damn asshole! Fucking answer me!” Zayn yelled with his cheeks flushing from rage, “Where the fuck are you, Louis?”

A few more bottles dropped onto their bodies. And then Harry heard a small but clear voice in the chaos.

“Yooooo. I heard your fascinating noise coming through the gate of the hell, Zayn. I must say, I love this rhythm of you crying… What the fuck is going on here?!”

Harry closed his eyes, calming his breath down. He had never been this relieved hearing Louis’ voice. “How did y’all get yourselves into this mess? Did crybaby fucking die? How dare you let him choke before I –”

“He’s alive!” Zayn shouted, “Shut up and listen to me! I’m paying my debt right now!”

Louis seemed pretty confused, “What? Whose soul are you going to – ohhhhhh.” His tone changed, mixing with excitement and disappointment, “That won’t be a problem. But you sure you don’t wanna give me crybaby’s –”

“Just – listen to what I said!” Zayn had lost all his patience, “Fucking do it right now!”

“Alright, alright. I really hate talking to human beings.”

All of sudden, the room was draped with a veil of dark violet fog. Harry could hear Taylor’s shocked gasp, “What?” Zayn clutched him tighter as the floor was rattling in quiver. The temperature in the cold vault started to rise promptly, as if all the alcohols were set on to fire. Harry could almost feel the flame blazing right next to him. Louis’ voice appeared again, resounding everywhere in the vault that made the broken pieces on the floor jingle together.

“In the name of Lucifer, Satan, Son of Dawn, the morning star, the immortal lord of the underground world, king of the hell… Hmm, does that sound impressive enough?”

“LOUIS!”

“Fine. Can’t I just have my moment?”

Then everything was coped by darkness. Taylor’s squeal and the brutal noise of the storm were the only things Harry could hear. He didn’t dare to open his eyes, and he didn’t have the strength either. Zayn’s heat still sheltered him from the fragments and scraps hitting on their bodies as the severe wind howling through every corner in the vault. Harry felt it difficult breathing again. He couldn’t hear anything anymore except for the heartbeats of Zayn stroking against his chest.

And then the silence fell.

“Harry?”

Zayn pat his cheek softly to wake him up; his voice was full of worry. Harry exerted himself to open his eyes again. Neither Taylor nor Louis was in the room anymore. Zayn’s face was inches away from his, but Harry could barely see him.

“We have to leave here.” Zayn whispered to him. Harry’s heart fell when he heard the sob in his voice. “Kalisha can heal you. This must be so easy to her. You will be fine.”

“I will die before we reach there.” Harry breathed difficultly, “Look, Zayn –”

“Stop!” Zayn supported him up and leaned him against the table. “Don’t ever say that again. Nothing bad is gonna happen. You will be cured, all right? Stop saying ridiculous things!”

Harry seized Zayn’s forearm with his pale knuckles, “You don’t understand, Zayn. It wouldn’t be that easy to break Taylor’s curse. Even Kalisha couldn’t make the antidote on time. I just wish that –”

“Yes.” Zayn suddenly composed his voice. “Yes. You’re right, Kalisha can’t. But I can.”

Harry’s heart started racing again; he cried out a dry sound when he saw Zayn reach his hand into his collars. “No.” Harry begged; his fingers around Zayn’s arm shuddered, “No. No. No. Zayn, don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

Zayn ignored his pleading, putting the tiny bottle in his palm. He brushed Harry’s damp fringe and left a kiss on his temple, “It’s all right. There’s nothing in this world that this potion can’t heal.”

“But you will lose all your power!” Harry cried, “You will never be a witch anymore!”

“I don’t care.” Zayn kept his words calm, but Harry could still hear the tremble in his voice.

“Don’t do this for me.” Harry whimpered, grabbing Zayn’s wrist to keep him from opening the bottle. “Don’t do this to me. Please. It’s not worthy.”

“There’s nothing else worthier than this!” Zayn exclaimed, swinging Harry’s hand away. “I can still do all the study I want. It doesn’t matter whether I can use witchcraft or not. And I will finally learn how to not be a smug.”

“That’s not funny!” Harry yelled back, “No! I won’t allow this to happen!”

He swiped Zayn’s hand abruptly as Zayn put his fingers on the cork. The tiny bottle was flung away and smashed onto the ground with an ironic crack. Zayn gaped at him in shock, wailing out loud from the breakdown.

“What the fuck, Harry!” He shook Harry’s shoulders with a desperate howl, “Why they fuck are you doing this? That was your last hope! Why would you do that?”

“Listen to me, Zayn.” Harry urged. He didn’t know how much time he had left. “You are one of the greatest witches I’ve ever met. It’s not just all about your power and intelligence…” He pulled Zayn’s face closer, letting Zayn drop his tears onto his chest. “You’ve taught me more things that I’ve ever learnt from the past of my life. And – for the first time, you made me believe I could actually be a witch.”

His voice weakened, but he forced himself to finish his sentence. “Look, I want you to go back to the house and tell everybody what happened. I want you to stay in the coven… That sounds selfish, but please do this for me. You will bring the coven to a better future. I’ve always known you can do this ever since you stepped into this house.”

Zayn didn’t answer, keeping sobbing to Harry’s neck.

“Please tell my family how much I love them.” Harry mumbled, “Yes, my grandmother too. And Caroline. It was her who brought you to my life.”

“I can’t.” Zayn wept, holding Harry with his shaking hands. “I don’t know what to do, Harry. I don’t know. I can’t do this.”

“You can do this.” Harry didn’t know why, but he started to chuckle. “That’s so weird. It has always been you who’s telling me that.”

“I can’t do this.” Zayn repeated, “Please. I don’t know what to do without you. Don’t leave me here, Harry.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry lowered his eyelashes. Zayn had almost disappeared from his vision.

For a moment Zayn couldn’t utter any other word, embracing Harry as he cried to his chest. Harry didn’t even know if his consciousness was there. He felt so dazed and hazy. Zayn’s voice was so close to him.

“At least let me kiss you.” His voice came from somewhere below Harry’s chin, “For the last time. Can I?”

Harry shut his eyelids, “Yes.” He wheezed vaguely and added, “Please.”

So Zayn leaned in, sealing Harry's lips tenderly with his palm cupping under Harry's chin. Harry really wanted to lock his hand around Zayn's nape or at least looked at his face before he could no more inhale again. But his mind was lost in turmoil as Zayn moved deeper, craving for one more second to hold Harry's soul in his arms. Harry complied with his eagerness, pecking Zayn's lips in case he was going to lose them. There was only one simple thought left in his mind. If he's never going to open his eyes again, at least he could let Zayn take his last breath.

A strange feeling coped Harry's entire body. A bizarre, rare, even exotic feeling was running through his veins that seemed as if the pain in his body had washed away. Harry wondered, maybe that's how it felt when his life was drifting away. That wasn't too bad, actually. As if he was breathing again. As if he was alive again.

He opened his eyes slowly, and he saw that Zayn was looking at him as well. He probably had sense the changing on Harry too. They both looked at each other confusedly. Harry was breathing regularly, and his voice wasn't trembling anymore.

“What happened...?” He blinked his eyes, moving his hands hesitantly.

“I have no idea.” Zayn's mouth half opened, “Are you all right? How do you feel?”

“Strange.” Harry stared at his nails, “and...I don't know, new? I just...I feel like I'm in a complete different body.”

Silence fell between two of them. Zayn lifted Harry's hand up, pinching his palm with his thumb. And then he mumbled, “Ten of Swords.”

Harry gasped.

He forgot another meaning of it.

“ _Rebirth_.” Zayn answered for him.

Harry's voice tightened, “This doesn't make sense at all? How come it just –” He swung his arm abruptly. The bottles on the floor bounced to the ceiling and crashed against the wall.

Harry put down his hand immediately and stuttered. “What the –” He exclaimed, “Was-was that because of me?”

“I think it was.” Zayn exhaled, facing at Harry with a mixture of surprise, confusion and relief. “Harry?”

“I...I don't understand anything.” Harry muttered, trying to figure the situation out but Zayn pulled him in, leaving more kisses on his ears and neck.

“Well, in my words, I will say Mother Nature has finally responded to you.”

Harry chuckled, feeling ridiculous. “But how?”

“I guess,” Zayn whispered before pressing on his lips again, “That's so-called  _magic_.”

 

Kalisha was the only one they shared the truth with. She fell into her armchair when they returned from the vault with blood and wine all over their shirts. Despite the shock, she told Harry and Zayn not to publish this secret and keep it under the ground of the house. They would rather let Taylor leave with her positive impression, or the coven might collapse once they revealed the ugly truth.

Zayn was officially introduced to the coven a few weeks later, with the blessing of the new leader, Kalisha, and the other witches. During his joining ritual, Harry could tell Zayn was rubbing his palm on purpose when they were holding their hands in a circle. He closed his eyes, ducking his head as low as possible so Kalisha wouldn't catch him giggling.

“Now our bloods are floating together.” Zayn smirked at him when he finished the ceremony, caressing Harry's neck with his index finger.

“So disgusting.” Harry smiled and kissed on his nose.

 

The sunlight finally returned a couple weeks later. Harry dangled his hands outside the balcony, humming to a song that he didn't remember the lyrics of. He straightened his back when he felt Zayn's arms around his waist.

“What is this?” Zayn frowned at his new outfit. He was wearing a light coral with dark rosy brown flower prints. The leaves and petals were decorated with thin silver lines.

“I bought it the other day. You don't like it?” Harry pouted, turning around to face at Zayn.

Zayn poked his dimple and smiled, “You look beautiful. Got yourself a new style?”

“Yeah. I've decided to renew my wardrobe. I'd like to call it ‘real witches wear whatever the fuck they want.’ ”

Zayn laughed, “But you're still wearing heels.” He looked down to his boots and raised his eyebrow.

“I like heels.” Harry shrugged.

“I like you in heels too.” Zayn smiled with a breezy voice, squeezing Harry's bum, “I found something in your room.”

“Hmm?”

Zayn didn't answer, brushing Harry's fringe aside and inserted a small flower above his ear. “I can't believe it's still alive. And I can't believe you actually keep it. Why is it painted blue?”

“Long story.” Harry smiled, resting his arms on Zayn's shoulder. “You know what, I still feel so weird like... All these things are happening to me. Yesterday I made Molly flying in my room and I didn't even know how I did it. It's supposed to be normal, but now it seems so abnormal to me?”

“As I told you, it was all about communication. You will figure out how to talk to the dearest Mother Nature.”

“I've been trying for years.” Harry creased his eyebrows, “Now she's responding to me. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that.”

“Well,” Zayn tilted his chin gently, “Then just listen to what she's trying to say.”

Harry didn't know what to answer. So they just kissed, and kissed and kissed again. And if that's what magic was defined, Harry guessed that's what he needed to keep in mind for the rest of his life.

Because he is a witch.

 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> I watch too many Once Upon A Time, I'm sorry *disappears in a puff*
> 
> (thank you for reading!! I will really appreciate kudos and comments!!)
> 
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